


Summertime (And the Livin' Isn't So Easy)

by MeghanAnna



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Co-workers, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-18 03:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeghanAnna/pseuds/MeghanAnna
Summary: The six long months since her father's death have been the hardest months of Clarke's young life. In an attempt to move forward and be herself again, she leaves for the summer to become a camp counselor. She has no idea how she's supposed to make friends with her fellow counselors, but striking up a no-strings relationship with one of them is definitely one way to try.





	1. Arrivals

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been to camp. I've never been a counselor of any kind. I don't know how these things work. If you've been to camp and I'm wrong about everything, I'm sorry. I'm just writing what I know, which is nothing.

Clarke has never been to summer camp. She’s never been in charge of anything, let alone a slew children, but when she pulls through the gates and parks her car near the small office, she can’t help the thrill the shoots through her. She cranes her neck, trying to see everything at once. She wants to know exactly where she’ll be spending her summer. At first glance, it just looks like she’s about to drive into the woods. She doesn’t seen any cabins or recreational areas. She can’t even see the lake through the trees.

But, when she finally gets out of her car, she can hear voices inside of the office. She takes a deep breath and walks inside, letting the screen door slap shut behind her. The voices all stop and heads turn to look for the interruption.

“Hi,” she says meekly. No one smiles, no one says anything. They just keep looking at her and she kind of wants to turn around and run back to her car—pretend she never showed up here at all. But she doesn’t.

There are three of them staring at her. A girl with a tight ponytail and some kind of leg brace, leaning against the single desk. Two guys—one with close buzzed hair and a neatly trimmed beard, another with dark curly hair, dark eyes, and freckles.

“You must be Clarke!” Someone new joins them from a side office and Clarke smiles at him tentatively. “I’m Monty. Ignore them.”

She shakes Monty’s hand and he smiles at her. The freckled guy comes up and offers his hand and she shakes it, too. “I’m Bellamy. Raven and Miller,” he says, nodding back at the other two. “Staff meeting is in an hour. Raven, show her to her bunk.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Raven says with a sarcastic smile and a salute. She pushes off of the desk a little uneasily, but is confident as she walks toward Clarke. “Come on.”

Clarke follows her outside and pauses at her car. “Should I leave this here?” she asks and Raven peers over her shoulder and shrugs, but she doesn’t stop walking. Clarke hustles a little to reach her and they walk through the trees, down a narrow path that’s framed by small stones. Once they’re through the twenty feet or so of heavy trees, they break into the camp itself. “Wow.”

“We like to keep this hidden from the road. We don’t want nosy tourists driving up and thinking it’s a free for all,” Raven explains and Clarke nods, but she’s distracted. There are two lines of cabins with numbers posted outside of each one. Between the two lines of cabins, there are picnic tables and a small stage. If she looks out to the left, she sees a large building—probably the mess hall—and to the right, far behind the sleeping cabins, she sees sporadically spread cabins with rec areas surrounding them. And there’s still so much _space_. “You’re clearly a city girl,” Raven says, no doubt reading the look of awe all over Clarke’s face.

“Yeah, I am,” Clarke admits, focusing back on Raven. “And not super outdoorsy, either.”

“That’ll change by the time you leave, don’t worry.”

Clarke’s not sure she believes her, but she nods anyway and follows her into cabin number 2. There are four sets of bunk beds and a single bed squeezed in there with shelves covering an entire wall. “The single bed is yours. Harper is your JC—Junior Counselor—and she’ll be in the bottom bunk on the end there. Your campers’ bunks are already assigned. Each bunk has a name.”

Clarke looks around the room before walking to her bed and sits down. “When do the campers come?” she asks and Raven sits down next to her, stretching her leg out once she’s settled.

“Two days,” Raven tells her. “The campers in here with you are 11-13. I’ve got the 14-17-year-olds. And Gina has the little kids, 8-10. And, then, Miller has the boys who are 8-10, Bellamy has the 11-13-year-old boys, and Lincoln has the 14-17-year-olds.”

“Okay,” Clarke breathes, taking it all in. It’s a lot of information at once. She doesn’t know any of these people. But it already seems like they all know each other. Which is probably true. Clarke is here for the college credit and an excuse to spend the summer away from her mom. These people have probably been doing this forever—since they were campers themselves, no doubt.

“You’re new,” Raven says and Clarke glances at her. “You’ll get used to it all. We’ve all mostly been doing this for a long time. Every year there’s at least one new counselor that has no idea what they’re doing. Last year, it was Gina. And she’s back. And alive. You have nothing to worry about.”

“What should I know about these kids? And the other counselors?” Clarke asks and Raven uses her good leg to push herself against the wall to get comfortable. Clarke does the same and waits for the answer.

“The kids are usually here because their parents can’t—or don’t want to—take the time off of work or get a fulltime nanny all summer. I know that’s why I came, and Bellamy and his sister, too. Some of the kids, like when Lincoln and Monroe were little, just wanted to be _outside_. Why are _you_ here?”

Clarke considers her answer carefully. She doesn’t know how much she wants to share with Raven—or any of them—before she even knows them. “I’m getting credit for teaching the art classes. And I just needed a summer away from everything.”

“Makes sense.” Raven shrugs and Clarke relaxes. She doesn’t need to go into detail about her breakup or her father dying. She doesn’t need to explain how lonely she’s been in the last six months, even surrounded by classmates and friends. She doesn’t need to admit that she’s hoping two and a half months in the woods will make her feel _human_ again.

“Some things you should know,” Raven starts, holding up a finger. “Lights out for the campers is 9:30. Three girl’s counselors and three boy’s are on duty every night. It rotates. One senior, two juniors. You’re doing the art classes, but you’re a counselor first. These kids need guidance and it’s not always easy. Or fun. It’s a lot of fucking work. _Please_ tell me you have experience with kids.”

“I’ve babysat a few times.” She shrugs and Raven sighs. “I like kids, though.”

“I hope you still do by the end of the summer,” is all Raven says before sliding off of the bed and standing up. “Want to see the rest of camp before the meeting?”

Clarke nods and follows Raven outside. They go to the mess hall first. It’s big and open inside with three lines of long tables. There’s a window between the dining space and the kitchen. There’s another, bigger office next to a nurse’s office. “This office is for Indra and Kane. Marcus Kane is the money man and Indra runs the place. But last year, Kane started hanging out here a lot more. I think he’s trying to find himself in his old age,” Raven explains, before they head out the back door.

“How old is he?” Clarke asks and Raven smiles a little.

“I don’t know, like 45?”

Clarke huffs out an unexpected laugh and continues following her to the other side of the camp where the smaller cabins are. “So, this is where the art class is?” she asks and Raven nods.

“Art for you,” she says, pointing at the building farthest to the right before moving down the line. “Robotics class for me, performing arts office for Miller, library for Gina, archery is out back for Bellamy, and Lincoln oversees sports, as well as, any and all outdoor activities. We do one big camping trip up in the hills that is his _baby_. I think Octavia is going to try and take it over this year, though. Jasper and Monty are going to try and start up a science class, which I think is just an excuse for controlled explosions. And we all do some other rec activities—tennis or basketball on the courts back there, diving competition off the docks, all that fun stuff.”

“So, this place is pretty organized?” Clarke asks, looking at all the buildings and the activities and the beach.

“Not really,” Raven asks. “You’ll get your class schedule that doesn’t change week to week, except for the camping trip week. You’ll get your duty schedule that’s already been finalized, but is flexible if you need a night off or away. We can leave camp on our nights off—JCs too. Campers can’t leave without a parent or guardian. We have a lot of freedom in the other activities we do. For example, if I don’t have a class when you do, I can come in and hang out with you, or Bellamy, or Miller as long as the kids are all where they’re supposed to be. That kind of thing.”

“Okay,” Clarke says, but it feels like a lie. She still has _no_ idea how this summer is going to go.

“Let’s go to Staff and maybe you’ll feel a little better.”

\--

Staff doesn’t help Clarke feel more at ease—at all. In fact, it overwhelms her more than ever. The Directors seem nice enough, but they also sound pretty hands off. Clarke came on as a Senior Counselor. That means that she and five other people are held the most responsible for 42 campers. The six JCs are responsible for them, too, but some of them _just_ graduated high school.

“The night is yours,” Bellamy tells her when the meeting breaks up and she looks at him with wide, panicked eyes. He tries to hide a laugh, but is mostly unsuccessful. “Your car is safe where it is, but there is a staff lot next to the mess. Plus, if you have stuff to lug to your bunk, that lot is so much closer.”

“Thanks,” Clarke says and he nods curtly. “What time should I wake up tomorrow? What should I expect?”

He smirks a little at that and Clarke feels uneasy. She doesn’t _know_ these people and she’s stuck with them for the entire summer.

“You’ll hear the horn at 7:00 AM. Campers don’t come until Friday, but we have _a lot_ of setup left to do, so you should get up when you hear the horn. We usually meet around 7:45,” he tells her. “The bathrooms are on either side of the mess. You’ll see them when you move your car. Girls on the right, boys on the left. There are eight showers and ten stalls in each. It’s great for tomorrow, but the campers use them, too, so it usually takes a little time to adjust.”

“Okay.” Every time she says it, she hears her voice getting less and less sure. She sounds like a misplaced little kid and, in two days, she’ll be the one _taking care_ of the actual kids.

“I’ll show you how to get to the mess hall,” Bellamy says and she nods, just so she doesn’t have to hear the sound of her own, weak voice. “I don’t want you driving into a tree on your first day.”

Clarke finally lets out a little laugh and Bellamy looks almost proud. “Thank you,” she says and he shrugs before walking off toward the front office where Clarke left her car.

It’s nearly 7:00 PM and the sun is only just starting to go down, but there’s a chill in the air from being so close to the water. The rest of the staff are congregating at the picnic tables and while Clarke and Bellamy walk away, she hears easy laughter coming from each and every one of them. And it makes Clarke miss her life back home. Not the one she left—the one that started to break apart six months ago.

“Uh, sorry for the way we all kind of ignored you earlier,” Bellamy says suddenly, bringing her back to him and their task at hand. “We were kind of freaking out and it looks like we almost scared you away.”

“It’s fine,” Clarke insists as they walk through the same narrow path Raven had led her down earlier. “I’m new and have _no_ idea what’s going on. I’d look at me like a burden, too.”

When they get to her car, Bellamy asks her to wait a minute. She does and he disappears into the office. He comes back out with something small in his hands and gets into the car.

“For the gate,” he explains, slipping what’s in his hand onto her visor. “I needed to grab mine, too because a few of us are going out tonight. These will get us in and out whenever they’re closed,” he explains, pressing the button so the gate closes behind them.

“Oh, thanks,” Clarke says, already thinking of things she can do when she can’t sleep at night.

“There’s a small road back behind the office,” Bellamy says, pointing toward it. “It’s really tight, be careful.”

Clarke follows his directions until she’s pulling into a spot near the girls’ bathroom. “That wasn’t too bad,” she mentions and Bellamy just gets out of the car. She pops her trunk and gets out too, almost expecting him to be gone already. He doesn’t say much and when he does, it’s a little gruff. Like he doesn’t have time for any of it.

“I’ll help you carry some stuff.”

She hands him one of her bigger bags and she throws another over her should and picks up a smaller tote. She can’t tell from his face if he thinks she’s packed too little or too much, but she feels like there’s no way it’ll last her the whole summer.

“Thanks again,” she tells him once they’re dropping her things onto her bed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.” He smiles tightly and turns to leave, but stops near the door and she gets almost excited. “There’s a binder under your bed. You should probably look through it before the campers get here. If you have any questions, all of our numbers are in there.”

Clarke just nods and he walks out, leaving her alone. Again.

She leans down to peer under her bed and pulls out the binder. She was expecting something huge, but it’s only an inch and it’s full of papers—cheat sheets on what to expect, staff contacts, the campers, her schedules, a welcome letter. She heaves a sigh and pushes her bags onto the floor so she can lie back and start reading.

Harper comes in eventually and Clarke can see how happy and calm she looks. Honestly, she’s a little jealous. “Wait, you’re 21, right?” Harper asks and Clarke nods. “Why aren’t you going out with the SCs? It’s, like, the last night the six of you can drink all together.”

Clarke fakes a smile before answering. She’s been getting _really_ good at fake smiling lately. “I wanted to stay in, kind of prepare myself for what’s to come,” she lies, holding up the binder to back up her story. It’s not that she was expecting an invite out with all of them, but she probably wouldn’t have turned down the offer.

“That makes sense,” Harper says and pulls a duffle bag out from under her bed. “I just came in for a sweatshirt. We’re all out there by the fire pit, if you want a break.”

“Thank you.”

Harper pulls out her sweatshirt and throws it on before flashing Clarke a bright, effortless smile. “Seriously, don’t study so hard. It won’t matter on Friday, anyway. It’s _all_ about the experience. You can’t prepare yourself for that from a binder.”

Clarke nods and Harper smiles once more before leaving the cabin. Through the window, Clarke can see the six of them sitting around the fire pit. Through the screen door of her cabin, she can hear them talking and laughing.

She wants to be a part of something again. She _wants_ to talk and laugh and have fun.

But it’s looking less and less likely the longer she sits alone in her bunk.

\--

The morning that the campers are set to arrive, Clarke walks out of the bathroom to find all but two of the rest of the counselors sitting at the picnic tables. Raven sees her first and smiles so wide that Clarke can feel herself start to blush.

“New girl has a new look,” she announces and Clarke immediately reaches to touch the ends of her much shorter hair.

“That looks awesome,” Harper tells her and Clarke smiles. “The pink ends are the best.”

“Thank you.” Clarke smiles and brushes some hair behind her ear and sits at the open seat next to Bellamy and across from his sister.

“So, _that’s_ why you’re here,” Octavia says, chin in her hand as she assesses Clarke.

“What do you mean?” Clarke asks, glancing at Bellamy, who is shaking his head at his sister like he’s disappointed in her.

“You want to change yourself, or find yourself, or _something_ like that,” she explains and Clarke lets out a long, deep sigh. “Cut your hair, dye it pink, pretend you’re not the girl who left home two days ago.”

“Octavia, cut it out,” Bellamy warns and she does, holding her hands up in surrender. “Ignore her,” he says to Clarke now. “Your hair looks good. And we’re glad you’re here—we need all the help we can get.”

Clarke just nods and Octavia smiles at her, almost softly, and Clarke has no idea how to read this girl. Or any of her fellow counselors.

The day before had been fine—fun even. They worked together all day, setting up camp for the impending campers—cleaning, organizing, decorating. They had dinner together in the mess hall with music blasting through the speakers meant for camp announcements. They sat around the fire until Indra warned them they should get a good night’s sleep before the campers arrived. They all went to their bunks at the same time, wishing each other luck for the morning, but Clarke couldn’t sleep. Clarke could never sleep.

And she was wired, anyway—from her new coworkers or the idea of actually having to be a leader of some sort once the kids arrived. Whatever it was, she sat in bed, staring at the ceiling while Harper slept like a log.

That is, until she dragged herself out, walked to the art cabin and grabbed a pair of scissors. She took them to the bathroom and cut her hair, right then and there. Then, she drove to the 24-hour Walmart she had seen on her initial drive to camp and browsed the hair dye section until she settled on a bright pink. It was nearly 2 AM when she finished dying the tips and, when she went back to bed, she felt lighter and excited and was finally able to drift off to sleep.

Now, she feels self-conscious and a little like a fraud. “Clarke, I _love_ it,” Monty says, sitting next to Octavia. “I knew I heard someone walking around outside last night. I’m just glad it was you and not a chainsaw wielding serial murderer.”

“I think we’re all pretty happy about that, Monty,” Miller agrees from the next table, shaking his head and laughing.

“Lincoln could take a chainsaw wielding serial murder,” Octavia pipes in and Clarke can see Bellamy roll his eyes as Lincoln joins the group.

“I’d rather not, though.” Clarke likes Lincoln. Maybe it’s because he’s quiet and keeps to himself. Maybe it’s because that when he does talk, he actually has something to say. Or it could be that he’s the kind of person she can picture hanging out with her and Wells.

“I’d also rather he didn’t,” Indra says as she and Kane ascend the steps to the small stage. “T minus ninety minutes. How are you all feeling?”

“Good,” everyone but Clarke calls out. She feels Kane watching her and she smiles and nods. She wants these people to know she’s taking it seriously. Even if she is a little terrified of spending all summer with 42 kids and 7 adults she doesn’t know at all.

“Great,” Indra says with a subtle smile before launching into a short speech. She tells them all the schedule for the day and who’s in charge of what. Raven, Monroe, Lincoln, and Murphy are in charge of manning the registration desk. Clarke, Harper, Bellamy, and Monty are responsible for showing the campers to their bunks. Miller, Jasper, Gina, and Octavia will show the new campers—and any returning campers who want to join them—the grounds.

The campers are coming in waves and everyone will convene for the first time altogether at dinner. Parents are allowed to stay up until that point and then it’s all on the Counselors and Directors.

Kane makes an even shorter announcement, telling everyone to be on top of their games and keep a close eye on the new campers, while also giving the necessary attention to the older and returning campers. Then the both of them head back to their office and leave the six counselors sitting in silence.

“You should breathe,” Bellamy says, nudging Clarke with his elbow and Monty laughs a little under his breath. “Are you going to be okay? Should we call your parents to pick you up?”

Clarke does take a breath, but immediately follows it with a sharp roll of her eyes. “I’m good,” she tells him. “But thank you for your concern.”

“Kids aren’t that scary,” Jasper promises, leaning closer from the table behind her. “These ones aren’t at least.”

“We used to be pretty scary,” Octavia reminds him and he hums in agreement. “But, you have to remember, Clarke has the 11-13-year-olds. Girls that age are brutal.”

“You sure as hell were,” Bellamy says quietly before yelping in pain—no doubt from a swift kick under the table.

“Look, all I’m saying is thank _god_ Harper knows what she’s doing,” Octavia says before standing up and striding toward the front office.

“Why is she like that?” Clarke says out loud, asking no one in particular. A few people laugh and Raven takes Octavia’s spot at the table.

“She thinks she’s a big deal because it’s her first year as a counselor after nine years as a camper,” she explains and Clarke nods slowly. She gets it—on some level—but she doesn’t think it excuses the way Octavia is treating her.

“Plus, she’s never had much sympathy for the rich,” Bellamy says softly and Clarke starts to get a little angry. “No offense.”

“Well, offense taken. So, thanks.” Clarke lets out a deep breath and stretches her neck before standing up. “Maybe you should wait to judge me until you know… _anything_ about me? Your sister, too.”

She walks away after that, straight into her cabin. She can still hear the other counselors talking under their breath—probably about her—so she throws herself down on the bed and covers her face with her hands.

She doesn’t want to cry. She hasn’t really cried since the funeral and she’d like to keep it that way. Forever, if possible. But she’s so overwhelmed—with camp, and new people, and new responsibilities, and everything waiting for her when the summer ends—that she can almost feel the tears start.

When she hears Harper come into the cabin, she groans and rolls toward the wall, just in case the tears really do start flowing.

“I’m not judging you,” Bellamy says from what sounds like a safe distance, but it still startles her that it’s him and she sits up so quickly, she hits her head against the wall.

“Fuck!”

Bellamy doesn’t even try to hide his laugh and Clarke puts a hand to her head and turns to face him. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s finally stopped laughing and she nods. “Sorry,” he tells her, but another small laugh escapes him.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Clarke says and he nods, looking down at his feet. “And according to my binder, boys aren’t allowed in the girls bunks.”

“Get over it,” he laughs, walking further into her room until he’s sitting next to her on the bed. She folds her legs so he can fit and waits for him to say something. He is the one, after all, who walked into her room without an invitation. He waits a beat longer. “I’m really not judging you. But I can’t say the same for O. We’ve had a rough year and this summer is the only thing I can think of that will make it better for her. She’ll unwind a little and you’ll see she’s not a bad person.”

“I never said she was a bad person,” Clarke reminds him and he looks up from his hands to her face. “And I also had a rough year, so I get it. But I don’t think I’m the one being a bitch.”

“You’re not,” he agrees. “And she’ll stop. Maybe even apologize.”

“Right,” Clarke scoffs and Bellamy smirks. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “Just, you’re going to be fine here. Octavia was right about one thing, though. Harper _does_ know what she’s doing. She’s a good resource for a new counselor. So am I. So is everyone. Okay? You’re not alone.”

Clarke starts to soften and nods. “Okay. Thank you,” she says. Bellamy stands up and she follows him outside. Lincoln and Miller are the only counselors left out there and they both look up from their phones once Clarke’s door closes.

Lincoln smiles at her gently and Miller smirks, looking between her and Bellamy.

“We should all head out front and make sure everything is set up for registration,” he instructs, ignoring them both.

The four of them walk through the trees in a single file line until they can all walk next to each other. Two big registration desks are set up with balloons. Raven and Monroe are already sitting at one, sorting through a stack of papers and folders. Lincoln sits down at the other one and starts to do the same. Miller continues past them into the small Welcome Office where Clarke can hear him talking to someone else. She just looks to Bellamy for direction.

She’s not even sure why. He just happens to be the one standing there and people treat him like he’s in charge, even though he technically isn’t. Plus, he’s kind of been there for Clarke since that first day—helping her with her car and her bags, talking to her about expectations. And he’s her male counterpart as far as campers, cabins, and responsibilities go. It’s probably a good idea to be on his good side.

“Now we wait, I guess,” he says with a sigh, going to join Miller and what sounds like Jasper and Monty in the office.

Clarke wants to be on his good side—sure—but she doesn’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy. Instead, she sits next to Lincoln and he wordlessly hands her a clipboard and a stack of papers.

“Thanks,” she tells him with a smile she knows he won’t see because he’s so busy stuffing folders.

\--

At 10:00 PM, Clarke stands behind the art cabin and watches the lake lap calmly against the shore. The kids should all be in bed and Clarke is free to do whatever she wants until the camp-wide wakeup call at 7:00 the next morning.

After registration and dinner, she and Harper—and the rest of the counselors—got to know the campers in their bunks. Then there was a s’mores party at the fire pit that was loud and messy, but the kids loved it. Clarke liked her campers, and the ones that she got to meet and get to know a little over s’mores and firelight. She had a much better feeling about the summer now that it was here and starting.

But, still, she’s had a long day—surrounded by more people than she’s used to in an unfamiliar place. Not to mention, she still has no idea if she can _do_ it. Even if she is feeling better, it’s not enough to make her feel like she’s made the right decision or that she knows what she’s doing.

“I can’t believe you lost your phone on the first day,” she hears Bellamy saying before she even sees him and Miller coming around the line of cabins.

“Hey, this is my _third_ day. Give me some credit,” Miller retorts and all of a sudden there’s a flashlight shining—right in Clarke’s face. “Holy shit!” Miller’s scream is higher pitched than Clarke would have imagined and she laughs unexpectedly.

“What the _hell_ are you doing hiding back here?” Bellamy asks her and she stops laughing at his tone of voice. “Fuck,” he sighs and she sees he’s catching his breath, too.

“I’m sorry,” she tells them both, sobering a little. They just stare at her and Bellamy shines the light over her body. “I’m _sorry_.”

“Have you seen his phone?” Bellamy asks, sweeping the light along the bottom of the cabin and then the next one. “He lost it on one of his tours.”

“No.”

“What _are_ you doing back here, though?” Miller asks her while Bellamy walks past her to keep looking.

“Breathing,” she says simply and Miller looks at her like she’s crazy.

“Plenty of places to do that without scaring the shit out of us,” Bellamy calls out and she can’t help but laugh again.

“We’re going out for drinks with Gina,” Miller says to her. She doesn’t say anything back, so they just look at each other for a beat. “You should come,” he adds slowly, like she should have picked up on his original statement’s intention.

“Okay.”

She needs a drink. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to get to know some of the people she’ll be spending the next two months with.

“Great, then let’s go,” Bellamy says as he comes over to them, holding out Miller’s phone. “You left it on a rock behind your office. Why’d you even bring the kids back here?”

“The view of the lake is the best from _right_ here!” he argues and Bellamy sighs and turns off the flashlight. “Also, it was my last tour and nothing was scheduled for twenty minutes. I needed to kill time and the view was the only thing I could think of.”

“We’re supposed to be meeting Gina at my car in two minutes,” Bellamy tells them, pushing Miller to turn around and start moving. He waits for Clarke to start walking, too, before falling into step between them.

The campers and the on-duty counselors are in their bunks, while everyone else is probably in what Raven called “the clubhouse.” Clarke has yet to see the clubhouse, but she’s told it’s where the off-duty counselors hang out if they don’t leave camp. There are a couple of sets of bunks, a small kitchenette, and the only TV on the grounds. Since she hasn’t seen it, she’s not sure where it could be, but she knows she’ll find it eventually.

She’s almost tempted to ask to take a detour there now, but Bellamy’s in front of them now, clearly on a mission to get to his car and away from camp. Meanwhile, she’s walking next to Miller who is just staring at his phone, magically without walking into a tree or a picnic table. The camp isn’t completely dark—there are lights outside of each cabin and all the main buildings—but it feels much different at night. It’s almost spooky. She is glad, though, to be with other people this time. The night before, when she was going to Walmart and doing her hair, every sound terrified her. Now, the only sound she hears is the buzzing of the lights, the calm ripples in the lake, and the bugs surrounding them all. With Bellamy and Miller by her side, it’s not bad at all.

When the three of them make their way around the mess hall, they’re all a little surprised to see Raven leaning against the passenger door. “Took you long enough,” she says, pushing carefully away from the car. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”

“I thought you were on duty,” Bellamy says, while pushing the button on his key fob to unlock the doors of his car.

“I was, but Gina wanted to switch,” Raven explains, sliding into the backseat. Clarke slides in next to her while the boys get in up front. “I know you were looking forward to rekindling your summer romance, but I didn’t get that vibe from her.”

“I have no intention to rekindle anything with Gina,” Bellamy says all too quickly and Clarke hears Raven scoff from beside her.

Bellamy pulls his car out and drives it through the woods—the same way he had shown Clarke—and then they’re pulling away from camp and flying down the road with their windows open. No one says anything, but Clarke can see Bellamy gripping the steering wheel tightly and Miller eyeing him carefully from beside him.

Clarke has no idea what happened between Bellamy and Gina in the past, but whatever Raven is talking about is clearly upsetting Bellamy. She looks at Raven to try and get her attention, but she’s got her eyes closed and her arm sticking out the window, moving it up and down rhythmically. She looks too peaceful to disturb her, so Clarke sits quietly like everyone else and waits until they’re at a bar to speak again.

“So, what is this place?” she asks the group as they walk inside.

“It’s a bar,” Bellamy answers unhelpfully before pushing through the crowd to order a drink.

“It’s the closest bar in town,” Miller explains as he glares at Bellamy’s retreating back. “It’s townie and pathetic, but they have a good selection of beers and plenty of alcohol to keep us coming back.”

“But don’t get drunk,” Raven warns. They’re at the bar now, but Bellamy is already walking over to a booth in the corner. “Or, _too_ drunk. You’ll really regret it in the morning.”

Clarke completely believes her, but is very confused as soon as she orders a round of shots for the three of them. “What about-“

“We got through day one,” Miller interrupts her, taking a shot glass full of tequila. “If we can make it through day one, we can make it the whole summer. Take the shot. Drink slowly the rest of the night.”

She does what she’s told and the three of them clink their tiny glasses together before taking down the shot. Clarke can’t help but wince. Tequila has never been her friend. She’s much more of a vodka girl. Whenever she and Wells drink together, Clarke gets just drunk enough to dance to anything, vodka in hand, and have more fun that should be allowed. And Wells calls her the Vodka Queen before turning the song to _Dancing Queen_ by ABBA. The memory makes Clarke smile and order herself a vodka soda.

She waits until the three of them have drinks in hand to wiggle away from the bar through crowds of people Clarke never expected to see in a small, townie bar. But once they’re moving toward Bellamy and the booth he grabbed, she breathes a lot easier. The crowd is more focused on alcohol than anything else, so as soon as she’s far enough away from the alcohol, she’s free and clear.

She and Raven sit across from where Bellamy is huddled in the corner while Miller slides in next to him. “What’s your problem, man? We survived day one. You should be so happy right now,” Miller says as he nudges Bellamy with his elbow over and over again.

Bellamy slaps his elbow away and sighs. “I’m happy we survived day one. Just eight more weeks to go,” he says. Miller just stares at him, eyes serious and pointed.

“Is this about Gina bailing on you?” Raven asks, leaning toward him over the table. Clarke waits for an answer, too, because the longer she gets to know these people, the more invested she is in their lives. And, who doesn’t love a little gossip?

Bellamy actually laughs a little at that. Not a harsh laugh—like it _is_ about Gina—but like he really thinks it’s funny. Raven looks over at her and Clarke just shrugs because she still has no idea what’s going on.

“I don’t want to start things up with Gina again,” Bellamy tells Raven before making eye contact with Miller and Clarke, to really hammer home that he means it. “I _do_ want her to be comfortable around me. I don’t want it to be weird. It’s going to be a long summer if we can’t hang out together.”

“It’s very true,” Clarke says, almost to herself, but they all hear her and turn to look at her. She’s a guest here—she gets why they’re looking at her like she’s crazy. “He’s right. It’s definitely for the best if they can at least get past whatever happened and spend time together. Avoidance sucks.”

“Who’s avoiding you?” Raven asks, but then Bellamy smirks.

“Who’d you come here to avoid?” he asks instead and she sighs.

“My mother,” she tells them. “My best friend. My ex-girlfriend. My life.”

“So, Octavia was right?” Miller asks her carefully. “About why you came here?”

“No.” She’s completely serious. Octavia made it out like she came here to change who she was, but Clarke just wants to remember what life was like before—before her dad died, before she and Lexa broke up, before Wells told her he was in love with her, before her mother packed up everything and sold her childhood home and gave everything of her father’s to charity without even talking to Clarke. “I just want to be happy again and I just want to be _me_ again. I’m not changing anything—just searching a little.”

She takes a long sip of her drink and can feel all three of them staring at her, but she ignores them until Raven pulls on Miller’s arm and they leave to go claim a newly open pool table.

“I’m serious about Gina,” Bellamy tells her once their alone. She looks at him slowly and he’s smiling at her. “I don’t want to get back together with her. I don’t want to date anyone right now.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t understand why he’s telling her any of this. That is, until his hand is on hers and his smile turns almost seductive. “What are you doing?”

“I’m bad at dating,” he tells her and she nods silently. “And after the year I’ve had, I definitely shouldn’t even try to do it. But I’m only human, you know?”

Clarke finally smiles because _this_ is just the kind of thing she needs. It would help put her on the track to happiness. It would relieve some of the tension that’s been building up the last six months. It might even make her a friend and open her up a little.

“I like where you’re going with this,” she says slowly and he squeezes her hand quickly before taking his hand back. “But how do we do this when we live in a summer camp full of children?”

“Cars, bars, the clubhouse,” he suggests with an easy shrug and she nods. “Believe me, it’s been done before.”

“Clearly,” she scoffs. They were just talking about him and Gina dating the summer before. She knows this isn’t unheard of. She just wants to understand the logistics of it. “I don’t want everyone else to know. Especially someone like your sister. _Or_ your ex-girlfriend.”

“Okay.”

Clarke considers it a second longer before tugging on his hand and pulling him out of the booth. They avoid the area where Miller and Raven are arguing over pool and find a quiet corner near a supply closet. She rests her back against the wall and lets go of Bellamy’s hand, but he quickly places it on her hip and steps closer to her.

“Okay,” Clarke says as her fingers inch up his arm. _Yes_. This is what she needs. And when her hand tangles in his hair at the base of his neck, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss her. She knew the kiss was coming, knew that was exactly what they were talking about back at the booth, but she didn’t know how good it would feel.

She and Lexa broke up a month after her dad died. She hasn’t been kissed in five months. Wells tried to—when he told her how he felt—but she’d ducked away before any contact was made. She loves Wells, but not like that. She can’t imagine a kiss from Wells would feel anywhere as good as this kiss with Bellamy.

A small sound escapes her throat and Bellamy pushes against her even more until they’re touching at every possible point. She’s made out with people at bars, but usually she’s a few drinks in and she doesn’t have to live in the same small area as them. She should be worried that this might get out of hand, but all she can think about is his hand sliding underneath her shirt.

 


	2. Week 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke likes the attention from Bellamy and she definitely liked kissing him. She likes spending time with the campers and getting to see them having so much fun. She likes getting to know the other counselors when they’re on duty or watching a stupid movie in the clubhouse. The food isn’t great and she’s really sick of mosquitoes, but she’s only six days into the summer and she’s happier than she has been in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I actually got this up when I wanted to! Yay me!

“You’re doing great, Madi,” Clarke says as she watches the girl paint a flower onto a ceramic bowl. “Bellamy, you could be doing a little better.”

“That doesn’t seem like a great teaching technique,” Bellamy snarls and when he looks up from his mug, there’s paint on his nose and on a curl plastered to his temple. Clarke bites back her smile and nods, turning her attention to the boy sitting next to her.

“It’s totally up to you, Aden, but I’d add a little more color to that plate,” she says, pushing her tray of paints a little closer to him. “Really make it pop.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, dipping a clean brush into the red paint.

Clarke watches him add the color before looking around the table at the other campers’ creations. Her class is currently filled with her and Bellamy’s 11-13-year-olds and, since he doesn’t have a lesson scheduled, he thought he’d sit in for the hour.

It’s the most time they’ve spent together since that night in the bar when they kissed until Clarke couldn’t feel her lips anymore. It’s been four days and things have been crazy with camp and courses and all the kids. And every time they find themselves alone, Lincoln needs help moving something heavy or Monty needs help getting one of his campers to stop crying from being homesick. One time, Octavia walked into the clubhouse just as Bellamy had tilted Clarke’s face toward his and he had to lie and tell her that he found a tick on Clarke’s eyebrow.

And, surprisingly, Clarke doesn’t mind any of it. She likes the attention from Bellamy and she definitely liked kissing him. She likes spending time with the campers and getting to see them having so much fun. She likes getting to know the other counselors when they’re on duty or watching a stupid movie in the clubhouse. The food isn’t great and she’s really sick of mosquitoes, but she’s only six days into the summer and she’s happier than she has been in months.

Camp isn’t _fixing_ any of her problems—her dad is still dead, Wells is still in love with her and she’s still not in love with him, her mother is still acting like a robot, and she only barely knows what she’s doing as a camp counselor—but it’s fun. Clarke can’t remember the last time she _had_ fun. It might have been the last date she went on with Lexa before her dad died. It might have been last summer when she and Wells took a quick, impromptu roadtrip from Boston to Maine for a long weekend. She’s having fun now, though. She keeps finding herself smiling at the kids or the other counselors and _meaning_ it. She spends her days jumping into the lake or painting in class or losing terribly at tennis against Monty—which always makes the campers laugh—and it’s unlike anything she’s ever done before.

When the dinner bell rings, she rushes the kids out so they can get to the bathrooms to clean the paint off themselves before going to eat and she promises she’ll clean up after them. She expects Bellamy to leave with them—especially considering how much paint he has on his own body—but he stays in his seat until the last kid leaves.

“You have paint… everywhere,” she tells him with her hand pointed at him, moving over his body. “And your mug is basically blank.”

He lifts his hand to his face and smears even more paint on his cheek and she laughs out loud. “Are you on duty tonight?” he asks her suddenly, ignoring the paint, and she stops laughing, which makes him smile. “Because I’m not.”

“I am, actually,” she tells him. “I told Raven I would switch with her tonight since she was on duty the last two nights in a row. She needs a break and I didn’t know what your schedule looked like.”

“It’s okay, Clarke,” he promises with a laugh. She watches him get up to go to the one sink in the back of the room and wash his hands.

“I knew the logistics of this would be tricky,” she says and he shrugs, pulling off a paper towel and soaking it. “But, hey, at least you and Gina can hang out.”

She didn’t mean for that to sound so… catty. She’s not interested in Bellamy as anything other than a distraction and an easy hookup. She can’t help but to admit how jealous she just sounded, though. Which is crazy, because she believes Bellamy when he says that he doesn’t want to get back together with Gina. If Miller—his lifelong best friend—believes him, then she knows he’s telling the truth.

But Clarke shouldn’t care either way. Because Bellamy is _not_ her boyfriend. She’s only kissed him in a dark corner a few times.

“Yeah, that will be good,” he says, clearly not hearing the same tone in Clarke’s voice. “Lincoln and O are off tonight, too. Maybe we can go to a movie or something.”

“You know your sister’s in love with Lincoln, right?” It’s true. Octavia even admitted it to her—well, she admitted it to Harper and Clarke just happened to hear her.

Bellamy scoffs and wipes his face with the paper towel before turning toward her. “No, she’s not,” he insists and Clarke laughs. “They’ve known each other for ten years. Since she was eight and he was thirteen. There’s nothing there romantically.”

“Maybe not when she was eight, but she’s eigh _teen_ now,” Clarke says slowly and he just rolls his eyes. “And, I hate to break this to you, but your sister is hot.”

“It runs in the family,” he says smugly and she walks across the room to finally kiss him again, because he’s right. It’s a quick kiss, but when she pulls back he’s smiling. “Sure you don’t want to tell Raven you changed your mind?”

“Yes,” she says, but she stands on her toes to kiss him again. “I’m off on Thursday.”

“I’m not, but I can be.” He’s a little dazed and it’s a little adorable, so she takes the paper towel from him and finishes wiping the paint off his face. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she promises, tossing it into the trash. “Now, help me clean up. I’m starving.”

\--

Clarke doesn’t have any classes the next day, so she finds herself walking toward the beach where she hears kids having the most fun. When she gets there, she sees Lincoln in a tank top with a whistle hanging around his neck while ten or so kids are lining up the five canoes.

“What’s this?” she asks, walking up next to Lincoln. He looks down at her with a bright smile and puts a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Canoe races.” He sounds so proud and Clarke can’t help but smile, too. “Each canoe has a returning camper and a new camper. So, it’s a lesson about team work _and_ competition.”

“Sounds like fun.” It _does_ , too. Clarke’s never canoed or paddled a boat of any sort, but clearly Lincoln is no stranger.

“Want to help me call the races?”

She doesn’t hesitate before agreeing. And that’s how she finds herself sitting in a small wooden boat in the middle of the lake, swatting flies away from her face every two seconds. Lincoln’s whistle is hanging loosely between his lips now, waiting for the two canoes to be ready to race. When he blows the whistle, the yelling of instructions start, but only one canoe begins to move toward them.

Suddenly, she’s invested and Lincoln is calling directions to help the immobile canoe. The other one is getting closer to the finish line and Clarke can’t help but call out to cheer for the other team. They finally start moving, but it’s too late. They’re still laughing and smiling when they get back to shore, though, and Lincoln looks pleased.

By the time the races are over and the kids are wet from wild paddling, Clarke is exhausted and her arms and face are pink. The kids leave for their next activity as a new group come down the hill and she thanks Lincoln for letting her crash his races before grabbing her shoes and heading toward the library.

Gina is alone in there, reading a book by the window, but smiles when Clarke walks inside. “Having fun out there?” she asks and Clarke nods happily. “Need any help?”

“No, I’m just going to use a computer for a few minutes.”

Gina smiles and turns back to her book as Clarke sits in front of one of the four computers available to the campers and counselors. The counselors are allowed to have their phones on them, but Clarke hates emailing on hers. The campers aren’t allowed to use their phones at all, so they use the computers to keep in contact with their parents or friends. No social media, though—just email.

Clarke has an email from her mother—just checking in, very short and to the point. She emails her an equally short, perfunctory message. Wells emailed her, too. His is longer, asking more pointed questions about what she’s been up to at camp. He tells her he misses her and asks her to call him when she can. She emails him back and promises that she will call him on her next night off. She ignores the email from Lexa that’s been sitting—unopened—in her inbox for three months.

When she logs out, Bellamy and one of Clarke’s campers are walking into the library. “Hey, Gina,” he calls out and she smiles at him. It’s a warm, welcoming smile and Clarke assumes their night off together went well. “Charlotte’s looking for a book. Can you help her out?”

“Of course!”

“Hi, Clarke!”

She’d been unseen by Bellamy up to that point and she was hoping to remain that way so she could watch his interactions with Gina. She’s curious, not jealous.

“Hey, Char,” she calls back and Bellamy looks over at her, almost surprised. She gets up from her computer and nods at him. “Thanks, Gina.”

“Anytime,” she promises. She’s already at the stacks with Charlotte, but turns to wave as she and Bellamy leave.

“No class?” he asks and she shakes her head. “Me either.”

“So, what am I supposed to do when I don’t have a class and the campers are all busy?”

“Crash someone else’s?” He shrugs and she rolls her eyes.

“I already crashed Lincoln’s.”

“Good,” he says, smiling at her. “You’re already getting the hang of it. Jasper and Monty are setting up a kickball game. They have like twenty kids over at the field. You want in?” She nods excitedly because kickball is something she actually enjoys and knows how to play.

On the way to the field, they stop in the mess hall building to grab a snack and Bellamy looks into Indra’s office to find it empty. “What are you doing?” Clarke asks, mouth still full with a cookie.

“Don’t worry about it.” The nurse’s door is closed and she can hear her in there with a crying kid, which Bellamy apparently takes as a good sign because all of a sudden they’re in the supply closet between the two rooms and his back is pressed against the back wall.

“Oh,” she laughs and he smiles before kissing her.

It’s the kind of kiss that would make her blush if she were watching it happen. His hands are everywhere and it only takes a few seconds for her to push her body flush against his with a leg hitched around his waist. This is what they’ve been looking for—a few minutes alone—and she’s actually _very_ pleased that he brought her in there. Sooner rather than later, she’d like to get him in a bed—or even a car—but a supply closet for a few minutes will do for now.

Before his proposition on Friday, she didn’t think about him as much more than a fellow counselor, but now that she knows what he tastes like and how his rough hands feel against her soft skin, she can’t stop thinking about him at all. And the more she gets to know him and sees him with the campers, the more she _likes_ him. Platonically, of course. He’s probably her closest friend at camp so far, and not just because his tongue is in her mouth.

She can’t stop her hands from sliding up the front of his shirt, wanting to get a feel of what she’s only glimpsed on the beach. She hasn’t been with a guy since the summer before college, but Bellamy—specifically his body—is everything she ever found attractive in them. When he pulls just far enough away to rip his shirt off, Clarke smiles and starts to do the same. She’s just got her own shirt off—which is as far as she plans on going in a supply closet—when the door opens.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Miller says under his breath as she presses her chest against Bellamy’s hide her body. But, it doesn’t matter because Miller slams the door shut after only a second.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke hears Monroe’s voice and lets her forehead fall against Bellamy’s shoulder. Bellamy hides his face in the crook of her neck, even though they’re alone, and sighs.

“My phone’s not in there either,” Miller tells Monroe and Clarke can hear her footsteps coming closer and she starts to panic, pushing Bellamy off of her and pulling her shirt back on. He puts a surprisingly gentle hand to her cheek and shakes his head calmly.

“You didn’t even look,” Monroe’s saying now and Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for someone else to find them. Miller, she can handle because she knows he won’t do anything to piss off Bellamy, but the idea of someone else—it scares her. She doesn’t want her co-workers to think she’s _that_ girl. She doesn’t want them to think that Octavia was right about why she’s here, either.

“I did. It’s not. Let’s go,” Miller says and Bellamy’s other hand finds her other cheek while they listen for whatever’s to come. They hear footsteps, but moving farther and farther away and Clarke finally breathes.

“All clear,” Bellamy says and—even though she knows they’re gone—his voice sounds too loud. She’s about to berate him, but he kisses her before she gets the chance. “I guess we should go.”

She watches him put his shirt back on and then tugs on his hand. “Do I need to run Miller over with my car to make sure he doesn’t say anything?”

Bellamy actually laughs as they leave the closet and she shoves him into the hallway. “He won’t say anything, but I’ll talk to him anyway,” he promises.

\--

At dinner, Clarke tries to take her time getting her food so she can avoid sitting with the rest of the counselors. She believes Miller won’t say anything about walking in on her and Bellamy, but she still doesn’t think she can face him. She could take a little longer, but when Harper runs over to her to grab a ketchup packet, she convinces her to go to the table and she can feel at least two other counselors watching her. One of which— _of course_ —is Miller.

He’s smirking at her when she sits down in the only empty seat—directly across from Bellamy—but she ignores them both and turns to listen to the story Raven is telling.

“Don’t get drunk tattoos, basically,” she’s saying as she lifts up her shirt to show the raven tattoo on her ribs.

“Is that your only tattoo?” Clarke asks before taking a bite of her burger and Octavia laughs from across the table and both Bellamy and Clarke sigh. He leans back and reaches over to shove her arm.

“What? Just another change to add to the rest she’s making,” she says and before Clarke can say anything, Miller speaks up.

“Clarke has a tattoo.”

She does—a compass on her shoulder that’s easily hidden by her camp shirts. Bellamy bites his lip and looks down at his plate. There’s a good chance even he didn’t get a look at it yet. She kicks him under the table and he coughs to cover a laugh.

“What do you have?” Harper asks her and Clarke smiles because no one seemed to notice her tense up or Bellamy’s silence or how red Miller’s face has turned.

“A compass,” she answers before looking at Octavia. “Since I was eighteen.”

When she looks back at Miller, he’s looking down at his tray of food, too—to avoid her eyes, probably—so, she just starts eating and lets the subject change to the kickball game she and Bellamy eventually won against Monty and Jasper’s team. It was a lot of fun and the kids had an amazing time and it garnered a crowd of onlookers that included even Indra and Kane. It only ended at all because the dinner bell rang.  

As kids start filing out of the mess hall, a few of the counselors sigh or cringe. Lincoln, Miller, and Gina are holding an assembly of sorts—to go over some of the summer initiatives—and all of the JCs are staying behind to make desserts for everyone before showers and lights out.

“Don’t use too much chocolate this year,” Bellamy warns the younger counselors as the SCs start to leave. “Your cake was _way_ too rich last year.” This part he says directly to Murphy, who just smiles at him, feigning innocence.

“Make us some brownies, too,” Raven suggests. “The kids asked _specifically_ for brownies.”

“Oh, did they?” Murphy asks, tilting his head. “Or is that what you’re doing right now and just _blaming_ the kids?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Don’t want to disappoint them, though, would you? Those 17-year-olds could take you, probably.”

At that, she leaves and the other JCs laugh and Clarke almost feels bad. Teasing is commonplace between the counselors and between the campers, but the counselors have been warned by Indra to keep theirs to a minimum—especially around the kids. Thankfully, Clarke hasn’t had to deal with much teasing or bullying with the campers. So far, they’re all so excited just to be at camp and away from home that no one is fighting or bullying. Yet.

She was a teenager once. She knows it’s coming.

Clarke leaves with the rest of the SCs and follows the pack of campers to the stage. Lincoln, Miller, and Gina keep walking until they’re seated next to Indra while everyone else sits on the ground or the picnic tables. Clarke hangs in the back with Raven and Bellamy and waits for everyone to settle down. When that doesn’t happen, Indra stands up to try and talk over them. That doesn’t work either.

When Bellamy sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles—just like her dad used to do to call her in for dinner—and everyone quiets down and cranes their neck to look at him. He just crosses his arms and nods toward the stage and they all look forward again. Clarke can’t help but look up at him admiringly. _That_ was impressive. He waits until all the kids are turned back to smile at her smugly.

Indra makes a quick reminder announcement about family weekend in three weeks, making sure that the kids can tell their families in time for them to make arrangements. Then, she asks Miller—or _Nathan_ , as she calls him—to come and speak to the kids.

Clarke is impressed at how easily he speaks in front of a crowd, though she shouldn’t be surprised. He is up there to tell them about the play that’s set to debut the last week of camp and the talent show during family weekend. He clearly has some background in the performing arts.

When he’s finished, Lincoln talks to them briefly about the relay race and the obstacle course. He goes on much longer about the camping trip set for week 6 of 8, making sure to go over the safety precautions they should expect to take, as well as the preparation they’ll be responsible for. The kids all seem excited about the camping trip, except for a couple of the older kids sitting in the back, but even they’re listening intently.

When it’s Gina’s turn to speak, she reminds the campers that the library exists for things other than emailing. It makes Clarke sad because, if she could, she’d spend all day in her bunk reading. At summer camp, though, there are just too many other things the kids would rather do, apparently. But all the campers love Gina. When she’s not in the library, she’s with her campers—the youngest of the bunch—making sure they’re comfortable and having fun. It’s only her second year on as a counselor and she fits in with the rest of them like it’s so simple. Clarke hasn’t had that luck quite yet.

\--

On Thursday, once Clarke sees that her campers are all in her cabin, she says goodnight to them and Harper and leaves quietly. Raven and Miller are sitting at the picnic tables, quietly talking about something, aand she walks past them. She’s supposed to be meeting Bellamy at her car, but she sees him walking toward the clubhouse with Gina and Octavia. His sister has what looks like an iron grip on his wrist and he’s looking around helplessly.

Raven notices her standing in the middle of the cabins and calls her over. “What are you up to tonight?” she asks, but Clarke is still looking after Bellamy and he finally catches her eye and shakes his head. It’s too dark to see his face, but she has an idea that their plans to get some time alone have been effectively cancelled.

“Nothing, really,” Clarke tells Raven now, sitting down next to her. “You both on duty?”

“Miller switched with Bellamy, so it looks like it.” Smiling softly at Miller, Clarke taps his toe under the table to show her thanks. Even if it is all for naught now that Bellamy’s being dragged around by his sister. And his ex-girlfriend. “I just saw him fighting with his sister, though. You should see if Lincoln has any plans. Don’t hang out here if you don’t have to.”

“Or you should go to the clubhouse,” Miller tells her, leveling her with a look. He looks like he wants to tell her something, but he can’t waver too far from the bunks, so she can’t ask to talk to him in private without making Raven leave.

Clarke doesn’t want to go to the clubhouse, though. She had plans to get off of the grounds and she wants to follow through, even if Bellamy is otherwise occupied. “I’ll find Lincoln,” she decides and Miller sighs, shaking his head. Thankfully, Raven doesn’t notice and Clarke can get up without having _that_ conversation.

She doesn’t actually intend on finding Lincoln. After all, she’s sure he has his own plans. The gym, probably. He seems like the kind of guy who would find the closest 24-hour gym around and spend his nights off there. Not to mention, Clarke has no problems entertaining herself. She’s pretty damn used to it, lately.

As she’s walking past the bathrooms, heading to her car, Lincoln is walking out, freshly showered and smelling clean. “Any plans for tonight?” she asks him after they wave at each other.

“Not really,” he admits, putting his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He has this way about him where he never looks uncertain or uncomfortable. Like he knows exactly who he is. Clarke envies him a little. She could use a friend like him.

Which is why, she supposes, she asks him if he wants to hang out and get a drink. He doesn’t even hesitate before smiling and putting a hand on her shoulder to lead her to his truck.

The short drive is mostly quiet. They have the windows down and Lincoln plays some soft instrumental music, because _of course_ he does. And Clarke feels herself relaxing the farther from camp that they get. Between the campers and Bellamy—not to mention, Bellamy _and_ Gina—she’s happy to be away from it all. Even if it’s just for a couple of hours.

They have a couple rounds of drinks and play darts. Lincoln wins three out of five games and buys _her_ a shot to celebrate. She totally understands why Octavia is in love with him. He’s gorgeous in that way Clarke doesn’t find attractive, but—she isn’t blind. And he’s sweet and nice and funny when wants to be. He’s a _good_ person.

When he drives her back to camp, it’s still early. She assumes the clubhouse is safe from whatever transpired between Gina and the Blakes, so they walk there. The clubhouse is very well hidden from the campers. They never have a reason to go past the bathrooms and the mess hall, so they can’t even see the bigger cabin set deeper into the woods. It’s a good five minute walk from the parking lot and before they’re even inside, Clarke and Lincoln glance at each other from all the good natured yelling coming from inside. People are no doubt neck deep in a videogame.

They walk inside together and when the screen door falls shut, everyone—except for Monty who is very clearly beating Bellamy at a game—stops arguing and looks up at them. Bellamy must be losing badly enough because his focus remains on her for longer than she’d expect. She smiles at him to show she doesn’t mind they couldn’t hang out—or hook up—and he barely nods before looking back at the TV.

But it’s _Octavia_ that’s staring now, slack jawed and fuming. When Clarke looks at Lincoln, she sees him looking back at her with narrow, pointed eyes. That’s when Clarke slides past him to sit on the couch next to Gina.

“How was your night?” she asks when Clarke sits down,

“Good. We just grabbed drinks and played darts. How was yours?”

“Interesting,” Gina says, laughing a little. When she rolls her eyes, Clarke laughs, too. She has no idea what happened, but she can’t wait to hear what Bellamy has to say. “I hate videogames.”

“My best friend is always on one system or another,” Clarke tells her, thinking of Wells holed up in his basement. “I’ve gotten very used to sitting quietly and watching. The most I ever played was the Sims.”

“I used to love that game!” Monty says from the floor when the game ends and fades to a different screen and Bellamy hands his remote his sister. They trade places—she on the floor and he on the couch— and Monty starts up another round.

 “I hate videogames, too,” Bellamy grumbles, crossing his arms as he settles further into the worn in cushions.

“No you don’t,” Monty says.

“You just suck,” Octavia finishes and he kicks her in the arm until she elbows him in the shin. Lincoln sits next to her on the floor, folding his knees against his chest the best he can as such a large guy. Clarke can’t be the only one who notices how Octavia leans against him and his pinky strokes her arm.

When her phone pings with a text message from Bellamy that reads _I hate that you brought them to my attention_ she knows she’s not the only one who saw it. She offers Bellamy a soft, apologetic smile, but he’s still staring at the back of his sister’s head.

“I think we need snacks,” Clarke says, successfully getting his attention. “I’m going to go to Walmart.”

“Just go to the mess,” Octavia says, but Clarke ignores her and nods at Bellamy toward the door.

“They don’t have Doritos in the mess,” Bellamy says, standing up. He waits for Clarke to get up, too, and they both leave the four of them looking after them.

When they can no longer hear the mumbling of their friends, Bellamy reaches for Clarke’s hand and pulls her closer into his side. “So, tonight my sister tried to get me and Gina back together.”

She almost yanks her hand away—just from the shock from his statement—but decides not to. She likes the feel of his hand in hers. She might be in trouble. “How’d that go?”

He picks up their joined hands and taps his knuckles against her cheek. “Exactly how Gina and I wanted it to go. We’re not into each other anymore.”

“Then why does your sister think you need to get back together?”

He leans his body against the passenger door of Clarke’s door and pulls her to stand in front of him before letting go of her hand. He doesn’t answer right away, so she steps closer and puts her arms around his neck and plays with his curls at the back of his head until he’s ready.

“Our mom died on October 17,” he says slowly and quietly, looking off to the side to avoid her eyes. His mom died _exactly_ two months before her dad. “Gina and I broke up on October 20. She thinks I did it because I was upset about my mom. I did it because it made me realize how fucking fast things can end and how I knew it wouldn’t bother me if things ended with Gina. I liked her, but I knew it wasn’t a forever kind of thing. We were long distance once the summer ended and neither of us were putting any effort into it.”

“That makes sense,” she tells him. She pulls gently on his hair and he finally looks at her again. “My girlfriend broke up with me in January. A little less than a month after my dad died. Two months later, my best friend since birth told me he was in love with me. And a week after that, everything my father ever owned—except for this car—was sold and gone from my childhood home. I hate how all of that ended and how _quickly_ it all did. I get it, Bellamy.”

When he kisses her, it’s a surprise. No just because she wasn’t expecting it, but because it’s soft. Softer than any other kiss they’ve shared. It’s unhurried and almost lazy. And she knows she’s in trouble now. Because she doesn’t want it to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


	3. Week 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to talk about me and Clarke,” Bellamy says and Miller just shrugs. “Not that there’s anything to talk about.”
> 
> Clarke groans, but she doesn’t argue. It’s true. They cannot get away from camp or the counselors at the same time. There’s always something or someone in their way. But the few moments they’ve been able to steal have been great, which just makes her want to drag him to bed even worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did NOT get this up when I wanted to, but the next chapter shouldn't take as long. 
> 
> I'm not making any promises, though. Don't hold me to anything. I am a trash person and cannot keep to a schedule.

“So, have you _done_ it yet?” Clarke rolls her eyes and glares at Miller while Bellamy elbows him in the kidney. “I take that as a no,” he says, stepping further away from Bellamy and his elbow.

The three of them are walking back to the lake carrying buckets full of super soakers so they can set up for a massive battle. It’s the hottest day since they’ve been at camp and everyone from the kids to Kane have been complaining. The schedule went to shit once two of the class cabins lost power and air conditioning, so the entire camp will be meeting them at the lake for the rest of the afternoon.

She’s just glad that Miller asked the question before they got too close to anyone else. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to talk about me and Clarke,” Bellamy says and Miller just shrugs. “Not that there’s anything to talk about.”

Clarke groans, but she doesn’t argue. It’s true. They cannot get away from camp or the counselors at the same time. There’s always something or someone in their way.  But the few moments they’ve been able to steal have been great, which just makes her want to drag him to bed even worse.

“It would be less difficult if you just told people you were seeing each other,” Miller offers and Bellamy scoffs. Clarke doesn’t look at him. Or Miller.

“We’re not seeing each other,” she says quietly. “We’re not dating. It’s not like that.”

“So, tell them that!”

“It’s complicated,” Bellamy offers and Clarke finally looks over at him and then Miller. “You know that.”

“All right.” Miller rolls his eyes and shakes his head and Clarke smiles down at her feet. The more she gets to know—and _like—_ Bellamy, the more she thinks Miller is rooting for them. She appreciates it, even if it goes against everything she and Bellamy set out to do that night in the bar.

Just ahead of them, they can hear all 42 of the campers talking while they wait. They don’t know what they’re waiting for yet, they were just told to be on the beach after lunch. From where Clarke and the boys are, she can see Lincoln, Octavia, and Murphy standing in the lake just deep enough for the water to hit their knees. Lincolns doesn’t have a shirt on and Octavia’s is rolled to her waist and her sleeves have been cut off. The rest of the counselors are dispersed around the beach, talking with the campers, but Clarke knows that Monty and Raven are off trying to fix the power.

“None of the kids are facing this way,” Bellamy notes as a slow smile works its way to his face. “We should drop the buckets down— _quietly_ ,” he says pointedly to Miller, “And shoot.”

“Sneak attack. I like it,” Miller agrees and the three of them slow their pace and nod at the counselors in the water. Clarke hitches her bucket to one hip so she can put a finger to her lips and Lincolns nods subtly when he sees.

Once they’ve put the buckets down and picked out their weapons, they spread out along the back of the beach and wait for another nod from Lincoln and they all start shooting. Kids start screaming in surprise until they’re all on their feet. Soon enough, they all have their own guns—pre-filled back at the bathrooms—and it’s an all-out war.

There are no sides drawn—just a messy free for all—and people are soaked within seconds. When they need to refill, they end up in the lake and get even more wet. The younger kids are having the most fun, laughing loudly and freely. The older kids and counselors use them as human shields and they laugh even harder because they all still get sprayed with water. Boys are running around, whipping shirts off and Clarke gets whacked with one and when she turns to shoot whoever hit her, she laughs when she sees Bellamy sticking out his tongue at her. Even he is having more fun than she’s seen in the last two weeks.

The whole thing lasts for a little over an hour, until everyone is exhausted and have retreated completely to the lake, guns disposed of on the beach with shoes and some clothes. Clarke’s laying on the beach with her legs in the water and an arm shielding her eyes. She knows Harper and Octavia were somewhere nearby when she sat down, so she’s surprised when she feels a familiarly rough hand on her thigh.

When she lifts her arm and looks up, Bellamy pinches her and she elbows him once until he laughs. “Let’s clean this up,” he says, standing up and she groans, not moving. “Kane and Indra are busy with the power thing. Everyone here is busy not dying of heatstroke. So, let’s bring some of these back and-“

“Got it,” she tells him, cutting him off. She’s up in seconds and he laughs again. “Chop, chop. Let’s go.”

They fill two buckets without raising any suspicion, but as soon as they start to head back, Monty walks towards them. “I’ll grab the rest,” he says, already leaning over to pick up a gun.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bellamy says, grabbing the gun out of his hand—maybe a little too roughly. “Go cool down. You’ve been working while we just played with squirt guns for an hour.”

Monty hesitates, because he’s Monty and he always wants to help, but he is dripping sweat. “Go,” Clarke urges and he smiles before turning around and _running_ into the water. “Now, you go.” She shoves Bellamy and he picks up his bucket, moving quickly.

They drop the buckets off to the shed out behind the girls’ bunks before Clarke grabs Bellamy’s hand and starts pulling him toward the clubhouse. If they walk fast enough, they can probably make it back to the beach in a half hour.

When they do make it to the clubhouse, Clarke immediately pulls off her drenched shirt and Bellamy’s lips land on hers before it even hits the floor. He starts moving them toward the couch, but Clarke pulls away and tugs on his hand.

“We should head to a bed,” she says, breathlessly. “If we’re in the back room, it’ll buy us some time if anyone happens to come in here.”

“Smart.” Bellamy can’t keep the smile off his face—or his eyes off Clarke’s boobs. She leans down to grab her shirt and takes his hand again.

As soon as they’re in the room with the two bunks set up, Bellamy pushes the door closed with Clarke’s body and kisses her. His hands are tangled in her wet hair and the entire length of his body is against hers. With one of his leg between hers, she can’t help but grind against it for a little friction. And the sound he makes when she does makes her do it again. Just so she can hear that low, guttural groan and know she caused it.

When she reaches down to undo his buckle, he pulls away just enough to help her take his shorts—and then hers—off. They’re a tangle of limbs and laughs as they fall into the closest bottom bunk.

It’s a tight squeeze with it being a twin size bottom bunk, but they can’t separate themselves enough to take up the entire space.

“You’re soaked,” Clarke laughs as his hair drips onto her face.

“Yeah, you’re one to talk.” His hand slips into her underwear and she gasps against the skin of his neck.

“That’s not what I meant,” she breathes and he laughs—so low she can feel it more than hear it. “Believe me, I’m a big fan of foreplay-“

“Me too.”

“ _But_ ,” she continues, reaching down to pull off her underwear completely. “We’re in a rush.”

“Right.” He pulls off his boxers and tosses them onto the floor before rolling Clarke onto her back. He takes a second to just look down at her and she feels herself start to blush. He kisses her quickly before leaving her naked on the bed to rifle through his shorts for his wallet and she watches him pull out a condom. “Always be prepared,” he tells her before covering her body with his again.

\--

Sex with Bellamy was _good_. Granted, sex at all after a six month slump would be good, but Bellamy was _really_ good. It was quick and it wasn’t the least bit romantic due to their time crunch and the fact that they were in a bottom bunk, but they’d finally gotten the job done and Clarke is already looking forward to the next time they can sneak away.

Hopefully, it will be after hours so they have a little more time to enjoy it. But Clarke’s not picky.

Now she’s on duty, sitting at the picnic tables and sketching with a flashlight lying next to her sketch book to cover the page in light. Lincoln and Jasper are sitting across from her—reading and playing a videogame on his phone, respectively. It’s a quiet night so far, but it’s only 11. Lately, right around midnight, one of the younger kids wakes up and can’t fall back to sleep, so she likes to stay up—and be available—until that happens.

Lincoln’s head keeps slipping off of the fist it’s resting on, though, and Jasper’s had his head on the table for the past twenty minutes. It had been a spectacularly long day. Electricity was up and running in all of the cabins again after yesterday’s outage and classes went on as scheduled, but it was even hotter than the day before. Not to mention, the first fight of the summer broke out. Bellamy and Miller ended it before it got _too_ physical. One punch was thrown—but missed—and the two fifteen-year-olds wrestled each other to the ground. That was as far as it got, though, before the two counselors pushed their way through the crowd surrounding them and were able to pull them apart.

Clarke doesn’t know what disciplinary action is being taken—if any—but she does know that the two boys, as well as Bellamy and Miller, were in Kane and Indra’s office through dinner. It meant that Bellamy’s archery lesson and Miller’s play rehearsals were left unsupervised and the rest of the counselors had to pick up the slack.

A planned movie night started off well enough, with all twelve counselors and forty-two campers present. Popcorn was passed around, along with drinks and candy, served by the counselors. But once the movie ended and the campers dispersed to the bathroom or their bunks, the counselors were left to clean up the mess and carefully put away the projector and screen that were set up.

The counselors that have the night off left quickly once it was all cleaned—either to the bar or the clubhouse—and the others were left to their own devices and whatever issues might come up. Since Clarke is used to staying awake most of the night, she’s tempted to just tell Lincoln and Jasper to go to bed. They’re both the kind of people who would stay up much later than they should just to make her feel like she’s not alone. But… she’s used to being alone, even after two weeks at camp. She doesn’t mind it and they shouldn’t suffer along with her if they don’t have to.

Before she’s able to tell them that, though, Jasper locks his phone and stands up. He yawns before lifting his leg over the bench and says, “I’m going to bed. Wake me up if you need me.”

Lincoln closes his book and watches his retreating back longingly before slowly turning to look at Clarke. He’s not asking for permission, but Clarke can see that he wants to. “You should go to bed, too. We still have some time before someone is bound to wake up. I’ll probably head in soon, too.”

That’s not true. She’s exhausted, but she knows sleep won’t come anytime soon even if she does try. Lincoln looks so relieved, though, so she’s happy to lie.

“Have a goodnight. Wake me up if you need me _at all_ ,” he says, looking at her so seriously. She can’t help but smile.

“I will.”

She waits until he’s in his bunk to start sketching again. There’s an eerie silence surrounding her, like there always is after everyone else retreats to bed. It creeped her out when she first got to camp, but she doesn’t mind it so much now. And she almost forgets about it completely when she’s wrapped up in a sketch or a book.

It’s only an hour or so later when the door to her cabin swings open and she sees Charlotte looking around. When her eyes land on Clarke she runs down the steps and Clarke can see the tears on her face. Charlotte’s been waking up from nightmares every couple of nights, so she’s not surprised, but she feels for her.

“Hey, you,” she says gently and Charlotte sits down next to her, breathing in and out deeply. Clarke runs her hand across the girl’s back as soothingly as she knows how until her head falls to her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Clarke always asked, but she knows the answer. The first time it had happened on Clarke’s watch, Charlotte told her about her parents dying in a car crash a couple of years back. She had been in the car, too, but only broke her arm. It happened at the end of the summer that year, so summertime is when the nightmares come most often. She never got into them in too much detail, but Clarke can imagine she’s reliving the accident over and over in her sleep.

She wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It’s why she doesn’t sleep as much as she should. Similar dreams will haunt her and she’d rather avoid them altogether.

When Charlotte tells her she doesn’t want to talk about it, the two sit there for a long time. Clarke keeps rubbing her back as Charlotte continues to cry.

When she’s settled down to where she’s breathing deeply but there are no more tears falling, Clarke hears footsteps coming toward them. She sees Bellamy walking toward his bunk with his head down so that he can’t see them. Charlotte notices him, too, and is on her feet immediately. He finally looks up just before Charlotte launches herself at him and he catches her around small the waist.

Clarke can hear him asking her if she had another dream and sees her nod before Bellamy places her back on the ground. He keeps a hand on her shoulder as they walk back toward Clarke and smiles before he sits down. Charlotte takes her seat again next to Clarke.

“Look at us,” Bellamy says, leaning his elbows on the table and looking at Charlotte. “Just a bunch of kids with dead parents.”

Clarke surprises herself with a laugh and Bellamy smiles at her proudly. “You too?” Charlotte asks her and she nods. She almost feels bad for not telling her about her dad after she’d told her about her parents, but Clarke’s not sure how much of her life she should be sharing with the campers. Bellamy clearly has no problem sharing his own dead parent stories, though.

“My dad. In December.” Clarke has said it aloud many times, but it’s never gotten any easier. Even now, admitting it to a twelve-year-old, makes her feel like she can’t breathe. Bellamy’s hand squeezes hers on top of the table, though, and she feels a little better. Maybe these are her people, now—a kid with two dead parents and a guy with a dead mom. It’s like their own little support group, right there in the middle of nowhere New Hampshire, in the dark of night.

They sit out there together for about twenty minutes, talking about anything other than their dead parents, until Charlotte announces that she’s ready to go back to bed. She hugs Bellamy once more and Clarke walks her back to their cabin. She makes sure to catch Bellamy’s attention and hold up a finger so he doesn’t go anywhere.

Once she makes sure that Charlotte is in bed and her eyes are closed, Clarke goes outside to find Bellamy sitting on top of the picnic table the three of them just were. She runs down the steps and straight toward him until she can throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

He’s a little shocked, to say the least. He’d watched her run toward him, but she’s sure he wasn’t expecting a physical display right there in the middle of camp where anyone could see them. She couldn’t help herself, though—not after watching him with Charlotte on his _night off_. He’d handled her so well and she clearly adores him. Clarke’s been good at waiting until she’s worn herself out and gone back to bed, but Bellamy knew how to talk to her, and probably everyone else at camp. And he did it well—with authority, but care.

And, you know, Clarke just likes him. And she likes kissing him. So she’s going to do it more often until he tells her to stop, which he probably will once he realizes how _much_ she likes him. But she’ll deal with that when the time comes.

Now, she just revels in the fact that he’s finally kissing her back and his arms are wrapped tightly around her middle. It’s a good, long kiss that lasts until his hands are spread across her back under her t-shirt and they hear a gasp, followed quickly by a laugh, behind them.

The two of them jump apart quickly so they’re not touching at all anymore. It’s clearly too late for that because whoever is behind Bellamy has already seen them and Clarke is too scared to look up from her feet to find out who it is. It’s a girl—which is the worst case scenario because the only one she wouldn’t mind finding out about them is Raven. Gina or Octavia, though? She’d rather fall into a hole, never to be seen again. They didn’t hear a door open or close, so she knows it’s not Harper or Monroe coming out of a bunk, so there’s a 66% chance it’s somebody she’s been actively trying to hide this thing with Bellamy from.

It’s quiet for about fifteen seconds. Clarke’s still staring at her feet, but Bellamy’s turned to see who interrupted them. And whoever it is, the two of them are just staring at each other.

“Wow,” Octavia’s voice is loud and clear and Clarke winces before finally looking up. They make eye contact over Bellamy’s shoulder and Clarke’s surprised to see something akin to _relief_ on her face.

“I told you she wasn’t into Lincoln.”

\--

It doesn’t take long for word to spread to the other counselors about Clarke and Bellamy after Octavia finds out. And once it has, it feels like someone has thrown a bucket of ice water over them. In the three days since their relationship—or whatever it was—has been revealed, the two of them have barely spoken to each other. And they haven’t touched once. Not even something lame—like a high five.

It’s probably for the best. Clarke’s feelings for him during that last kiss were far deeper than what they’d planned. Better to put the fire out before it got any worse. But it feels like he’s avoiding her a little. It’s not like he runs away when she walks into a room or that he doesn’t talk back when she initiates a conversation, but he’s also not doing any of the initiating. It’s all business and campers. No more flirting, no laughing.

Octavia is being nicer to her, at least. Clarke remembers being 18 and falling in love for the first time. She knows how jealousy can affect people. She gets why Octavia has been so cruel and she doesn’t care enough to hold her own grudge against her. They’re not friends, but at least they’re not on their way to being enemies anymore.

Gina doesn’t seem to care that Clarke is—or, _was—_ hooking up with her ex-boyfriend, either. Before Clarke realized they’d stopped, she and Gina had a nice talk and Gina actually wished them well. It was easier not to correct her—not to tell her that they weren’t dating and that it was just physical. And now she doesn’t have to, apparently. There’s nothing to correct anymore. It’s not dating—it’s not even physical. It _was_ something nice that’s now over. Like so many other things in Clarke’s life recently.

Things keep ending without her knowledge or consent. Her dad’s entire life and existence, her relationships with Lexa and now Bellamy. Her friendship with Wells hasn’t ended, but it’s definitely stunted. She was able to run away from most of it, but she can’t just run away from Bellamy or camp. And she doesn’t really want to.

Sure, she’d still like to makeout with him and have as much sex as possible before they part ways in six weeks, and she no longer can do those thing. But… she’s making other friends and having other types of fun at camp. She lost one thing that was making summer—and life—bearable again; she didn’t lose everything. Not like last time.

It’s been two weeks; she can get over and forget about her thing with Bellamy. She doesn’t to forget everyone else, though. She doesn’t lose everything else she’s gained recently.

A lot can change in two weeks. It started with a new location and job, then she cut off her hair and dyed it pink. She started a no-strings relationship with a guy she barely knew and became friends with him and so many other people. She lost the relationship with the guy, but she’s still arguably happier than she was when she left home. Octavia was right that first day of camp. Clarke _did_ need a change. She didn’t know it at the time and she didn’t believe it when it was pointed out to her, but it’s clear now.

She’s still the same, old Clarke she was before her dad died and everything else happened. But those six months between then and now are a whole different story. _That’s_ what she needed to change. Eventually, she’ll need to go back to Boston and finish school. Eventually, she’ll have to face Lexa in classes and her mother at holidays. Eventually, she’ll need to talk to Wells and go to a home that doesn’t have a single trace of her father’s life in it. She’ll have to leave camp and her new friends.

Their work has already been done, though. It’s been two weeks and she already feels like Clarke Griffin again, not that shell of Clarke that existed for six months. She still can’t sleep and there are times she misses her dad so much she can barely breathe, but she’s finally living again. And Bellamy helped her do that.

He made her smile and laugh. He kissed her senseless and breathless. Not to mention the sex. Though only once, it was a necessary part of her development these past two weeks. She’d still very much like to continue the relationship they’d started and kiss him again and feel him again. But she can live without it.

“Let’s go to the movies,” Raven says as they’re cleaning up Clarke’s latest art project. It shakes Clarke out of her thoughts and reflection. “I think Octavia and Lincoln are going. We should get Bellamy and Murphy to go, too.”

“ _Murphy_? Really?”

“I thought you’d be more disgusted by Bellamy given your current situation.”

“I told you,” Clarke says with a sigh, “I’m over it. Whatever was going on was good while it lasted, but it, too, is over. So, we may as well get used to being stuck here together for the next six weeks.”

“Okay.” Raven shrugs and they continue cleaning up the scraps of paper all over the classroom. They have a few more hours until they’re free to do anything unrelated to their camp duties, but a movie sounds good to Clarke. A movie with her friends, Bellamy included. And Murphy, too, apparently.

Raven has graciously stepped up in the last day or so to become her go-to friend at camp. It had started with Bellamy, but now since they’re barely talking and Clarke has desperately needed someone to talk to, Raven has become her person. Raven knows she’s a replacement, but Clarke assured her that she is an upgrade—and it’s true. She liked Raven right from the start and the only reason she didn’t click with her right away was because she felt intimidated by her. She still does, but now she knows it’s not such a bad thing. Raven’s a badass and Clarke just wants to be her friend and get to know her. And Raven was happy to oblige once she made Clarke tell her everything that had gone on between her and Bellamy.

It’s nice to have friends again. It makes her miss Wells like crazy, but it makes her happy. And happiness is all she wants in her life right now.


	4. Week 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s raining.”
> 
> Everyone glares at Murphy when he walks into the mess hall shaking the rain out of his hair like a lost dog. Lunch would usually be over by now, but—as Murphy said and everyone has already noticed—it’s pouring outside. They’re all waiting it out, hoping it will pass long enough for the kids to get to a class or their bunks. Clarke is supposed to be helping the kids tie dying shirts for Family Weekend next week, but it’s an outdoor activity that clearly has to wait. Bellamy can’t really teach kids how to shoot a bow and arrow when it can’t stop raining for more than ten minutes. And Lincoln can’t do any water activities with the threat of lightning.
> 
> “What do we do when it’s like this?” Clarke asks, looking at a table of the younger kids. They’re already getting bored and tossing balled up napkins at each other. Miller’s had to tell them to stop twice. Bellamy’s about ready to separate them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might have to last you a while. I leave for vacation in 5 days and I don't want to touch a computer while I'm gone.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Clarke looks up from her sketchbook to glare at Bellamy standing over her on the beach. “Are you kidding me? _You’ve_ been avoiding _me_.”

“I am not!”

She closes her sketchbook and looks around at the kids and other counselors in the water or behind them on the beach. She doesn’t necessarily want to have this conversation around half of the campground. It’s Saturday afternoon and there isn’t much of a schedule on Saturdays—just meals, mostly. She likes spending her weekends on the beach. Bellamy usually doesn’t.

“You haven’t said anything to me in, like, two days,” Bellamy says after Clarke’s confused silence.

“I stopped talking to you after I realized you’d stopped talking to _me_ , which was about day after everyone realized we were sleeping together. So, clearly, you’re embarrassed by sleeping with me or you just don’t want to anymore. And that’s _fine_ , but you didn’t have to cut me off completely.”

He sits down next to her with a loud harrumph and she subtly moves far enough away from him so they’re not in danger of touching. Once he’s wrapped his arms around his knees, he faces her. She can’t see his eyes behind his aviators, but she can feel how intently he’s focused on her and it makes her uncomfortable. It makes her remember the way he focused on her when they were having sex and the way he looks at her when he thinks she’s not looking at him.

“What do you want, Bellamy?” She turns to look out at the lake. Teenagers are jumping off the floating dock, younger kids are swimming near the shoreline. Jasper is sitting on Lincoln’s shoulders trying to push Monty off Miller’s. She doesn’t necessarily want to have this particular conversation here, but she doesn’t think it will last long, so it’s not worth going to find somewhere less crowded.

“I didn’t _intend_ to stop talking to you altogether,” he says quietly. Clarke still doesn’t look at him, she just picks up her sketchbook and pencil and gets back to work. Bellamy takes this as a sign to go on. “You were the one that said you didn’t want people finding out about us—our arrangement. I figured you wanted to play it cool for a while.”

“There’s playing it cool and then there’s what you did,” she explains, darkening the lines of her sketch. She can feel Bellamy watching her hand move over the paper, so she stops and looks at him instead. He studies the drawing for a few seconds longer and then looks back to her. “I want to be your friend, Bellamy. It’s more important than hooking up with you, too, so I’m fine if you want that part to be over. You just need to tell me these things. Communicate, you know?”

“See? This is why I don’t date. I’m bad at it.”

“We weren’t even dating and you’re still bad at it.”

They both laugh and Clarke leans back on her hands, letting the sketchbook fall back onto the sand. Under any other circumstances, Clarke knows that she and Bellamy would actually be a good fit for each other. As it is, though, they’re both dealing with the loss of a parent and major life changes. Clarke doesn’t even know where Bellamy _lives_ , so even if they were in the right state of mind to start something real, she has no idea if it would be worth it at the end of the summer.

“I do want to be your friend,” he says finally and she smiles. He does too. “And I don’t really want that other part to be over.”

The smart thing to do—knowing what she knows and feeling the way she does—is to tell him no. Instead, she smiles wider. “Good. Me either.”

Bellamy nods once and turns back toward the water before lying back in the sand. Clarke looks down at him for a second before picking up her pad and sketching again. She works quietly while Bellamy lies next to her, occasionally yelling at some campers behind them to stop swearing. Every time he does—about five times in 10 minutes—she laughs to herself and he hits her knee with his. He’s easily one of the most authoritative counselors—if not the _most_ —but seventeen-year-old girls gossiping about boys are hard to stop.

“Why are you here?” Clarke eventually asks him and they look at each other. “I mean, you don’t even like the beach.”

“I wanted to talk to you.” He sits up again and—she’s not sure how—but they’re close enough now that their shoulders are touching. They’re both wearing their new camp tank tops that Kane ordered during last week’s heatwave, so the skin to skin contact is almost too much for Clarke. But she doesn’t move away, either.

“Okay.” He smirks at her and leans in like he’s about to kiss her. She almost lets him, too, but then she hears those same girls laughing behind them and she squeezes her eyes shut and Bellamy moves away. “Later.”

She says it—and means it—like a promise.

\--

That night, Clarke is sitting in the clubhouse with her sketchbook propped on the arm of the couch she’s on. Most everybody else off-duty went to the bar, including the JCs, which is why Bellamy left in a huff. To retrieve his underage sister. They all invited Clarke to go with them, but she insisted on staying behind. It’s nice to have a little time to herself again. It’s not like she misses sitting home alone for upwards of six months, not wanting to talk to anyone, but she does miss peace and quiet sometimes.

But she still doesn’t mind when Bellamy comes back before everyone else and throws himself down so his head lands in her lap. “How’d that go?”

He just huffs and Clarke laughs, running her fingers through his curls. She continues that with her free hand while she goes back to sketching and she can feel Bellamy’s head getting heavier the more comfortable he gets.

“What are you always drawing in there?” His voice is low and his words come out slowly, like he’s falling asleep right then and there.

“After my dad died, I didn’t go back to school,” she tells him, focusing on her drawing and not her story. She won’t finish either if she gets too caught up with her words. “I missed an entire semester, so, in order to graduate on time, I have to make up some of the work I missed. I came here to get credit enough for two classes. My advisor convinced my professors to come up with some other ways to get me caught up. Hence the sketchbook. I’m making a comic of my summer here for one class.”

“Am I in it?” he asks and he sounds more alert—more invested.

“You’re part of the summer, aren’t you? Everyone is in it. Don’t worry, it’s not getting published or anything. No one but my professor and my advisor will see it.”

“I don’t care who sees it. As long as I’m one of them.”

Clarke snorts and scratches at his scalp one last time before taking her hand back to rebalance her sketchbook. Bellamy whines at the loss of contact but she ignores him. She expects him to move at some point—to at least sit up and take up his own space—but he stays there. He eventually pulls out his phone and starts playing some bubble popping game, cursing under his breath every so often, and Clarke doesn’t mind this so much either. It’s still peaceful, still quiet.

She wonders if it should be more awkward. It’s been days since they’ve talked, save for that day on the beach, and they didn’t solve anything really. They just decided that they’d both like to continue sleeping together—no strings attached—and she’s looking forward to it. So, why then, are they not taking advantage of having the clubhouse to themselves? Why aren’t they ripping each other’s clothes off?

When Bellamy butts his head against Clarke’s elbow a couple of times, she drops her hand back to his hair and he smiles to himself as her fingers go back to carding through it.

That’s how Raven, Octavia, and Lincoln find them.

“You two are giving me whiplash,” Raven tells them and Bellamy flips her off. Clarke just shrugs, taking her hand back again and closing her sketchbook. Bellamy sits up, but stays next to Clarke, and Raven sits on the other side of him.

“How drunk are you?” Bellamy asks Octavia and Lincoln shakes his head.

“I had two beers,” she tells him with a roll of her eyes. “And you don’t have a right to be mad. You _let_ me drink at home.”

“Yeah. At _home_.”

“How old were you when you started drinking in that bar?” Raven asks like she already knows the answer, and she probably does.

“Irrelevant.”

“Hypocrite,” Octavia says. She takes Lincoln’s hand and drags him into the back bedroom and Bellamy groans.

“They better not be having sex back there.”

“Again,” Raven says, turning on the TV. “Hypocrite.”

Clarke bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing and Bellamy just sighs and rests his head on her shoulder. His casual affection is starting to get to be too much. They’re not dating. _He_ doesn’t want to date. She’s still a mess after her last relationship failed. Not to mention the mess she is from her father’s death. They’re both just all-around messes and Clarke shouldn’t like the way he’s leaning on her or the way his hand is warm on her bare thigh.

The three of them watch TV in silence with Bellamy’s head on Clarke’s shoulder and his fingers drawing random patterns on her leg. Clarke can feel Raven looking over at them every so often and catches her eyes. Raven just shakes her head with a silent laugh and Clarke smiles at Bellamy’s hand in her lap. She knows they’re not dating and she knows they never will, but she can’t help thinking of her past relationships when he’s being like this with her.

She and Lexa never really touched each other in public. Lexa had no desire to hold Clarke’s hand or kiss her on the cheek when they separated from lunch. Even when they were alone, there wasn’t much warmth in their relationship. They talked about classes and the deeper meaning of life. Lexa and Wells never got along despite the fact that Wells made multiple efforts to get on her good side. Clarke can’t even begin to picture Lexa in a place like this. She would hate working with the kids and lose her temper by day 2. She probably wouldn’t get along with the other counselors. Sometimes Clarke isn’t sure how they got along so well for almost a year.

If she met Bellamy anywhere else, though, she’d probably think the same things. He doesn’t come off as someone who’s great with kids, or even adults. But he _is_. The kids love him. He’s friends with every one of the counselors. Kane respects the hell out of him. She wouldn’t think he likes to cuddle, but he lifts his head off her and maneuvers them so his arm is around her shoulders and her head is pillowed on his chest. And it’s _nice_. Even when Raven audibly snorts once they’re tangled together. 

\--

“It’s raining.”

Everyone glares at Murphy when he walks into the mess hall shaking the rain out of his hair like a lost dog. Lunch would usually be over by now, but—as Murphy said and everyone has already noticed—it’s pouring outside. They’re all waiting it out, hoping it will pass long enough for the kids to get to a class or their bunks. Clarke is supposed to be helping the kids tie dying shirts for Family Weekend next week, but it’s an outdoor activity that clearly has to wait. Bellamy can’t really teach kids how to shoot a bow and arrow when it can’t stop raining for more than ten minutes. And Lincoln can’t do any water activities with the threat of lightning.

“What do we do when it’s like this?” Clarke asks, looking at a table of the younger kids. They’re already getting bored and tossing balled up napkins at each other. Miller’s had to tell them to stop twice. Bellamy’s about ready to separate them.

“It hasn’t been like this in a while,” Miller says, looking out the window dreamily—like that will make it stop raining. “Not since I’ve been a counselor. They’re usually quick summer storms and we all hang out for a while.”

“This is supposed to go on all day,” Raven confirms, looking at the weather on her phone.

“Indra will probably just tell us all to go back to our bunks,” Octavia says.

Indra and Kane have been in their office with the door closed since the kids sat down for lunch. They’re probably trying to come up with some sort of plan, but they’re taking too long and even the older kids can’t sit still this long. Especially when they don’t have phones to occupy them.

Clarke looks at Bellamy sitting next to her and he shrugs. “Maybe we can get them all to tie dye some shirts in here. We can move the tables out of the way, set up some tarps and buckets, and then hang them up on some string to dry overnight.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Lincoln says thoughtfully. “It will keep them busy for at least an hour.”

“Then we can force some summer reading on them,” Gina suggests. She’s still not happy with the lack of people taking out books. “Send them in groups to the library to pick out books and then send them back to their bunks until the rain stops.”

“A couple of us could go out and grab pizzas for dinner and deliver them to the bunks, so they don’t have to go out again,” Monty suggests.

“That wouldn’t suck. I’ll run it by Indra and Kane.” Bellamy gets up from the table and Clarke can’t help but watch after him.

“Get it together,” Octavia says, which makes Raven laugh, and Clarke rolls her eyes but looks back at the table.

“Lincoln, can you help me with all the supplies we’ll need?” Clarke asks and he agrees immediately. Clarke just smiles at Octavia and turns to leave. She hears Raven tell everyone else to round up the kids and start moving tables.

Clarke and Lincoln run across the camp to get to the art room and they’re both soaking by the time they get inside. She points out everything they need and they start packing it all into the buckets they’ll be using to make it easier to carry. Neither of them want to make another trip.

When they get back, everyone is laying tarps down and Bellamy is telling some of the kids where different stations will be set up. A few kids run over to help Clarke and Lincoln carry things and she smiles as they run away again, buckets dragging behind them.

The whole thing goes over really well and lasts a little longer than they were planning, which is even better. It’s only 2 o’clock when they’re done, but most of the kids actually seem excited for a relaxed afternoon and pizza. Clarke and Lincoln are still wet by the time they start shuffling kids over to the library, so they hang back to clean up with Raven. Bellamy and Miller hold a tarp over their heads and usher a group of kids underneath as they start the walk to the library. It’s not a perfect plan, but they’re all mostly dry by the time they get back to pick up the next round of kids.

\--

Clarke’s been dry and happy reading in her bunk for almost two hours when there’s a sharp knock on the door. All the girl’s put down their books or drawings or playing cards and try to see out the window. It’s not often they get visitors when they’re in the cabins; it’s almost exciting.

Harper passed out ten minutes ago with her book on her face, so Clarke gets up to check who it is. Bellamy is smiling at her, holding an umbrella overhead. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I just called the pizzas in. I need some help.”

“Yes!” Clarke glances behind her and sees Madi hanging off her top bunk. “I’m so hungry, Clarke. Go!”

“I was planning on it, weirdo. Be careful.” She holds out a hand and Madi pushes herself off of it to get back on her bed safely. Clarke grabs a hoodie and shakes Harper awake. “I’m going with Bellamy to get the pizzas.”

“Have fun.” She says it so suggestively that she can hear Bellamy laughing from the other side of the door.

“I will.”

She ducks out of the cabin and closes the door behind her. She stays close to Bellamy as they descend the stairs, but only so she fits underneath the umbrella. No other reason, obviously. “I learned something interesting today while I was stuck in a cabin with pre-pubescent boys.”

Clarke laughs and looks up at Bellamy, but he’s just looking ahead, waiting for her to ask. “What was that?”

“Apparently,” he says and she sees him swallow. Like he’s nervous. It’s kind of cute. He’s kind of… ridiculously cute and she’s in so much trouble. “They ‘ship’ us. My campers and some of yours.”

“I don’t know how I feel about 11-year-olds ‘shipping’ me with another one of their camp counselors.” She’s laughing, though, because it is hilarious. “I didn’t know we were so obvious.”

“Neither did I.”

When they’re tucked into the warmth of his car, Clarke takes his hand and he turns to look at her. Finally. “What did you say to them?”

“What?”

“When they told you they ship us. What did you say?”

Bellamy smiles, looking down for just a second like he’s trying to hide it. “To mind their own business and not ship real people. It’s creepy and rude.”

“I’d ship us, too.”

He laughs before leaning in to kiss her slowly. She lets go of his hand and tangles her fingers in his hair. She loves his stupid hair. And his hands, especially when they span across her back and pull her closer. She really wishes they weren’t sitting next to each other with a console between them.

She puts a hand to his chest and pulls away. He chases her mouth and she lets him kiss her one last time before moving away again. “Madi’s going to starve. We should go.”

Bellamy nods and starts the car. He maneuvers them around the campground and out onto the road and it’s Clarke’s first time offsite in the daylight since she first got to camp. It feels weird.

Bellamy reaches over and squeezes her knee, letting his hand linger and Clarke turns to study his face. “What’s the difference between what we’re doing and what you were doing with Gina last year?”

He takes his hand back and Clarke tells herself it’s because he needs it to take a turn, but once they’re going straight again, he still doesn’t reach for her. “I don’t know. I guess I started sleeping with her after I asked her to go out with me. By family weekend, she was my girlfriend. On our nights off, we got dinner alone before fucking in my car.”

It makes sense. They didn’t start a no-strings relationship. They started with a date. That’s a _huge_ difference. But Clarke knows that Bellamy likes her. She can tell by how much more he smiles at her than any of the other counselors and the way his eyes follow her when she’s talking. The touching the past few days has been a great indicator, as well. And she doesn’t want it to stop, but she also doesn’t want to get her hopes up.

“My ex-girlfriend sucked,” she tells him and he looks at her sideways while he drives. “I mean, she broke up with me less than a month after my dad died because she couldn’t deal with the emotions of it. She hated my friends and they didn’t like her. She was rude to my parents and she never threw out an empty bottle of milk in her life.”

“Okay?”

“But I loved her. More than I’d ever loved anyone before. She understood me and she cared about me. When I wasn’t a mess over the death of my dad, I guess.”

“Sounds like a real winner.”

“Shut up,” Clarke laughs and he shrugs. “It was nice having someone pay attention to me and make me feel like I was important. I didn’t realize how terrible she was until after the breakup, until Wells tried to kiss me and told me he was in love with me. I don’t love Wells—not like that—but I know that would be the kind of relationship I deserve. You know?”

“Yeah.” He sounds so serious. His voice is all low and he can’t look at her. “Why do you think I didn’t just ask you out?”

“If it’s because you think I deserve better than you, you’re crazy.” He huffs out a sigh and pulls into a small parking lot. Clarke can smell the pizza already, but she can’t make herself get out of the car yet. He can’t either, apparently. “We shouldn’t date. There are plenty of reasons why. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you like that.”

“You were so sad when you got here,” he tells her and she remembers. She’s _still_ sad, but not in the all-encompassing way she was three and a half weeks ago. It feels like it’s been so much longer. “And I was so mad at the world. My sister’s been sleeping on my pullout couch since October and I had to leave school for a year to make sure we had enough money to get a three bedroom apartment when we’re done here. And Boston is so fucking expensive and my mom is dead and I’m pissed about it all.”

“Like those. Those are good reasons we shouldn’t date.” She tries to sound light and he does smile for just a second before looking at her. “I do like you, though. Keep that in mind.”

“Believe me, it’s on my mind. Well, the fact that I like you is. I’m glad you like me. This would be really awkward if you didn’t. But we shouldn’t date.”

“We haven’t fucked in your car, though. We should definitely fuck in your car at least once this summer.”

“Literally anytime you want to have sex with me— _anywhere_ —just let me know. I’ll be happy to oblige.” Clarke leans over the center console and kisses him quickly.

“Noted.”

“I don’t know what we just decided or figured out, but I’m going to keep trying to sleep with you. And makeout with you whenever we can.”

“We can figure the rest out when we get back to Boston.”

“I didn’t-“

“I know.” She smiles, kissing him again. She reaches for the door handle and says, “I didn’t know you were in Boston either until just now.”

\--

It’s still raining the next day, but not as badly. They can get to and from cabins without getting soaked to the bone. The girls in Clarke’s bunk stayed up later than usual, fueled by pizza and the snacks Harper bravely got for them all during the thickest part of the storm. Clarke’s campers didn’t come out and say they want her to date Bellamy, but a couple did admit to having crushes on him themselves. That, she gets. She had her fair share of crushes on teachers and coaches when she was growing up. They didn’t, like, take over her life or anything, but it was always fun to go to class or practice. It helps that Bellamy is _good_ with the campers and that he treats them like real people instead of tiny annoyances.

“So, you’re going back to school this fall?” she asks him that night at the bar. She had to beg Raven to cover her night on duty so she could try to get just a little more one on one time with Bellamy.

“Yeah, my senior year a year late.” He takes a long sip of his beer and leans his elbow on the bar.

“You said you needed a three bedroom apartment last night. Who else do you live with?”

Bellamy considers her and she smiles, tapping her toe against his ankle and he laughs, ducking his head. “Miller, actually. We’ve been living together since his sophomore year. Now we’re going to be seniors together. And Octavia is officially moving in and starting her freshman year.”

“Cool. I’m a senior, too. Or, I will be when I’m done catching up with my junior year. How old are you?”

“Jesus, do you want my social security number, too?”

Clarke takes his beer and finishes it off because she can and he’s a dick. “I’m twenty-one. Octavia is eighteen, right? And Miller is twenty-one. So, how old are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? How old is too old to be a camp counselor?”

“I’m twenty-three,” he says with a laugh, flagging down the bartender. She expects him to ask for another drink, but he asks to close out their tab instead. Then he hands over a credit card before Clarke can see the bill and pay for her drinks. “This is my last summer doing this. Next summer I’ll be finishing up school and licensing, so I have to realign my priorities.”

“Licensing?”

“To teach.” He signs the receipt the bartender places in front of him while Clarke kind of stares at him in awe. He _would_ be a teacher. Of course. “I believe you mentioned you were looking forward to fucking me in my car?”

She slides off her stool and puts her hand in his outstretched one. Bellamy squeezes her fingers and they leave the bar and their friends behind for the rest of the night.

“You’re going to be a teacher?” she asks when they’re in his car, driving away from the bar, in a direction she’s never been.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Not even a little bit,” she admits and he shrugs one shoulder. “You’re going to miss camp, though, aren’t you?”

“A lot. I’ll miss O and Miller when they’re here and I’m stuck in the city. This place has been more like home than anywhere else since I was thirteen.”

“I like it more than I thought I would,” she tells him quietly and he reaches over to squeeze her knee. “My dad would love it. He always tried to get me to go to camp and get outside. I never had much interest in it. It was fun to draw and paint nature, but I’m still not a huge fan of _being_ in it. But camp’s been really good for me. It got me out of my slump and my apartment. It put some distance between me and my mom. And me and Wells,” she says the last part with a strong hint of remorse. She didn’t leave to run away from Wells. The timing just made it seem that way. But they’re emailing and texting. He’s still her best friend.

“Plus, you met me.”

“Yeah, exactly. I made new friends. You guys and Raven are in Boston. I get to keep you all.”

“Most importantly, you get to keep _me_.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty excited that I get to keep Raven.” She can’t keep the laugh out of her voice and hears him sigh.

“I hate you,” Bellamy says and she leans over to kiss him soundly on the cheek.

Bellamy pulls off the road onto a dark, dirt road. It’s well past midnight and she has no idea where they are until she sees the lake and the lights from the camp across from it. They just sit there for a minute and watch the lights dance on the water.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” She assumes the more she says it, the truer it’ll be. But they keep making vague promises now that they both know they’ll be in the same place at the end of the summer. It feels like a lie when she says it.

“And you’re not my girlfriend.”

“Right, because you’re a terrible boyfriend.”

“And you’re emotionally broken.” He sounds so careful when he says it, but he’s not wrong. Her dad died. And her girlfriend dumped her in the midst of mourning. She is broken.

“A little bit.”

“So, we should get in the backseat and not be in a relationship.”

“Yes, we should.”

The sex is even better the second time around. It’s way more cramped, which seemed hard to imagine at the time, but at least they can take their time. And Clarke likes being on top, so the backseat of a car works for her. And Bellamy definitely doesn’t seem to mind.

Once Clarke’s collapsed on the seat next to him, Bellamy disposes of the condom in a plastic bag he keeps for trash. He tosses it on the floor and leans over Clarke to kiss her—once, then twice. His smile is bright and she can feel hers growing the longer they look at each other.

“I haven’t had sex in a car since I was in high school,” she tells him and he laughs, pulling her to sit up. They pass each other their clothes and get dressed in the cramped space, hitting each other with shirts and limbs.

“One of these days I’m going to get you somewhere we don’t have to worry about overhead space and surface size.”

Clarke scoffs at that as she pulls on her shirt. “Good luck with that.”


	5. Week 4 (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family Weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to try and come up with an excuse...

Family weekend is no joke. At least, that’s how it feels. It’s Friday morning, hours before families are set to arrive for dinner, and everyone is freaking out in one way or another. The kids are excited to see their families and tell them what they’ve been up to in person. Apparently, emails and letters just aren’t sufficient. Indra and Kane have been running around making sure everything looks good and acceptable. And it’s the counselors’ job to actually set everything up.

The registration tables are back out front where Clarke and Monty will be welcoming parents and telling them where they can meet their campers. A couple of JCs are helping the kitchen staff with getting the pasta dinner ready. It’s twice the size of a normal meal, so it’s taking some extra hands. Bellamy and Miller are getting the kids ready for the talent show while the rest of the campers are being entertained by the remaining counselors.

Registration needs to be set up all day, since some parents need to travel a lot farther than others. There’s a room block at a local hotel that the parents have sold out completely and Clarke has been told that they’ll most likely come to camp before trying to check-in at the hotel, despite the schedules that have been sent to them.

As it is for the moment, though, she and Monty definitely have the easy jobs. It’s just after lunch and they’ve only checked in four sets of parents in three hours. “One of us could probably handle this,” she tells Monty. She doesn’t want him to go—she likes Monty—but she feels like she could go hang with the campers.

“Don’t leave me alone,” he begs and she laughs. “Seriously. Some of these parents are crazy. We need each other here, Clarke.”

“Okay.” She’s still laughing when he huffs out a sigh of release. He looks so _relieved_ and Clarke feels a tug of fondness for him. “You start college at the end of the summer, right?”

“Yeah. Jasper and I are moving into our dorm room like two days after we leave camp.”

“Where are you guys going?”

“MIT.”

“Impressive,” she tells him and he just shrugs. “Seriously, that’s awesome.”

“It’s not a big deal, but thanks.”

“So, we can hang out, then. When all of this is over.”

“You’re in Boston?” He sounds excited, which is good. Clarke wasn’t sure they were _friends_. She knows that they get along and have similar senses of humor, but she’s happy to see he wants to hang out next year. He’s her favorite JC, by far.

“I grew up in the suburbs and now I’m in the city, yeah.”

“Awesome!”

It is awesome, Clarke thinks. She had no idea so many of the counselors were in Boston. It seems like it’s just Gina, Murphy, and Monroe who aren’t. She doesn’t want to lose the friends—or the progress—that she’s made since she came to camp. She’s really happy she doesn’t have to.

“Monty, I’m tapping you out.”

Both Clarke and Monty turn to see Raven limping toward them. She’s been complaining about her leg since breakfast. Monty gets up and reaches a hand out for her. She takes it and he helps her sit down.

“I’ll go find something for you to prop your leg on.”

She thanks him and sighs. “This sucks. Family weekend is the worst time for this to happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke tells her; Raven doesn’t say anything, just stretches her bad leg out in front of her and crosses her arms. She hasn’t told Clarke much about her leg, just about the summer she had to miss at camp three years ago during her recovery. She knows it’s bad and she knows Raven doesn’t like to talk about it.

When Monty comes back with another chair from inside the office, Raven puts her leg up. “Thank you,” she tells him. Monty smiles as a car pulls in and then backs away.

“Have fun with all of the crazed parents.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as he literally runs away through the woods.

The parents aren’t _so_ bad. They do try to get into camp, but Clarke has to tell them—multiple times—that they need to come back at dinner. When they leave, she relaxes into her uncomfortable folding chair.

“My leg definitely hurts and it definitely sucks, but I want to hear about your date with Bellamy,” Raven says after a minute.

“It wasn’t a date.” Clarke says it so immediately, sounding defensive even to her own ears.

She can feel Raven considering her, but she can’t turn her head to see for herself. She knows how she sounds, she knows she’s in too deep, she knows she likes him, and she knows it’s probably not going to end well. She doesn’t need to see all of that written all over her friend’s face.

“It wasn’t,” she insists. “We got drinks and had sex in his car.”

“Sounds like good date.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t correct her again. It was good. Even if it wasn’t a date.

After a single mother comes up to check in and leaves a few minutes later, Clarke feels someone tugging on her hair. She swats the hand away and leans her head as far back as she can to see who it is. Bellamy is smiling down at her, wearing his sunglasses. There’s sweat dripping down the side of his face and his hair is a little fluffier than normal from the humidity, but she wants to drag him back to his car and make an honest man out of him.

“What do you want?” she asks as he walks around to stand on the opposite side of the table. He pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head and Clarke knows the nosepieces are going to get stuck in there until she’s able to pull them free for him.

“The key to your art cabinet.” He’s looking at her like he knows her answer.

“No,” she tells him and he sighs, running his hand over the back of his neck. He looks like he’s preparing for battle. He might be.

“Clarke.”

“Bellamy.”

He smirks, just a little, and she can see Raven rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Clarke, come on.”

Bellamy rarely says her name, but she likes the way it sounds. She mostly uses his name in bed, breathing it over and over again until she can’t talk at all. _Bellamy._ She should say it more. She likes the feel of it as it rolls of her tongue. He should use hers more, too. Even now—when he’s not getting what he wants—he sounds like her name will save him somehow. So low, with that hint of a smile in his eyes, like he _wants_ her to save him.

“I don’t trust you with that key. Or in my art room at all, for that matter.”

“The kids want to make cards for their families. They need paper! And markers! So, I need your key. Please.”

“There’s glitter in there,” she tells him and he laughs. “I don’t want glitter all over everything. If I give you the key, the cabinet will be open under untrustworthy supervision and one of those kids will charm their way past you and into the glitter.”

“Jesus, Clarke. Just give him the key,” Raven says, laughing herself. “He’s a big boy.”

“I will take out the approved materials and immediately lock the cabinet again,” he promises, holding up his hands. “I will even make them wait outside while I do it, so they don’t get any funny ideas.”

She tilts her head and looks up at him warily. Bellamy slowly lowers his hands and leans over the table so he’s nose to nose with her. “Please,” he whispers and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Fine,” she says with a huff. He stands up again, smiling proudly. “My key’s in my bag in the office. I’ll be right back.”

She leaves him at the table with Raven as they both laugh. Glitter is too dangerous in the hands of small children. It really isn’t a laughing matter, as far as she’s concerned.

While she’s rifling through her bag, she hears Bellamy’s heavy steps coming up the front stairs. She hears the door slam shut behind him. “Clarke?” Her name. Again.

“In here!” He finds her in the side office and she walks over to him, holding out the key.

“Thank you,” he says, grabbing it. Clarke doesn’t let go, though, so he ends up pulling her body into his until he’s smirking down at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Clarke tips her head back and Bellamy leans down to kiss her. “I heard you guys had fun last night.”

“It was okay,” he agrees before kissing her again. She smiles against his lips and kisses him back.

“The band was good?” Bellamy groans and tries to kiss her again, but now she’s laughing at his impatience. “I missed it; I want to live vicariously through you.”

“It was a local, townie band. It was fine,” Bellamy tells her. “How was work?”

“Boring. Your sister hates me.”

“My sister hates everyone, don’t take it personally.”

Clarke huffs again, but when Bellamy smiles at her, she stands taller to kiss him. She hears a car outside and knows she should go help Raven, but then Bellamy pulls the key from her completely and drops it on the floor before letting his hands slide underneath her shirt and slowly up her back. She can’t help but kiss him harder or press further against him. Whenever their lips or their skin meet, Clarke’s a goner. Bellamy is all she cares about.

But then she hears Raven call her name. The spell between them is broken. Clarke steps back first and Bellamy leans down to pick the key up and put it in his pocket. “Three days until we have the same night off?” she asks him and he laughs.

“Three days.”

They’ve been making plans since their last night off together. Clarke really want to take him up on his offer to get her into a bed that doesn’t have another bed directly above them. She wants to take her time with him one of these days. And, in three days, she might be able to.

“Come on.” She tugs on his hand and they leave together. Clarke bounces down the steps ahead of him and looks toward Raven. “Holy shit.” A laugh tumbles out of her and she runs to the man standing there watching her. “Wells!”

He catches her as soon as she jumps at him—he knows her well enough to know when to brace for impact. “Hey,” he’s laughing and the sound is like music to Clarke’s ears. She’s missed him and she was afraid he’d never let himself laugh around her again.

Wells drops her when Raven clears her throat and they look at her—and now Bellamy—to find them both watching them. “Who is this?” Raven asks, smiling a little. Bellamy doesn’t look quite as amused.

“My best friend, Wells,” she explains, grabbing his hand to pull him closer. “This is Raven and Bellamy, a couple of the other counselors. My friends.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wells says, reaching out to shake their hands. Raven shakes it easily, appraising him gently. When Bellamy shakes it, though, his eyes fall on Clarke instead.

“You too,” he murmurs. Clarke wants to reach for him, to show him… something. She’s not sure what. That _he’s_ the one she’s sleeping with? That she already broke Wells’ heart and he’s most likely not here to relive it.

“Wait,” Clarke says suddenly, turning her back to Bellamy and Raven altogether. “What are you doing here?”

“Your mom told me it was family weekend.”

“For the _campers_ ,” Bellamy laughs and Clarke narrows her eyes at him over her shoulder. He just holds his hands up in surrender and looks at his feet.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clarke insists.

“We can hide you,” Raven says and Clarke offers her a thankful smile.

“You’re working,” Wells says, rolling his eyes at himself. “I should have known.”

“Hang around,” Clarke begs. “I’m off tonight at, like, 9. We can grab a drink and you can stay in one of the bunks in the clubhouse and drive back tomorrow.”

“Indra and Kane won’t mind,” Bellamy finally says and all three heads whip toward him. “We might just recruit you to help a little.”

“I can help as much as you need.”

“Good.” Bellamy smiles tightly before walking toward Clarke. “No glitter,” he says and she smiles.

“No glitter.” He nods and leans forward to kiss her cheek, surprising her. “Oh.”

“Subtle,” she hears Raven mutter through a laugh.

“Shut up,” Bellamy tells her, kissing her on the cheek, too. It’s more playful and less intimate somehow and Clarke doesn’t think anyone is fooled, but he’s slipping through the trees before anyone can stop him.

\--

As soon as Clarke and Wells sit down at the empty counselor’s table, she notices him studying her again. “What is it?” she asks, exasperated. But, not really. She’s still happy he’s here.

“I feel like I don’t even know who I’m looking at.” He doesn’t sound like he’s judging her. In fact, he’s smiling. “Your hair, the dirt all over your legs. _The smile_.”

“I’m happy.” She shrugs one shoulder, looking down to avoid his gaze. Wells has known her a long time. He knows her better than anyone in the world. He was there for her right up until she left for camp, even _after_ he told her he was in love with her and she told him she didn’t feel the same way. He’s her family and she doesn’t want that to change. “It’s a good thing, right?”

“The best,” he promises and she smiles up at him again. “I didn’t think you’d like it here. You weren’t looking forward to it at all. I’m glad I was wrong.”

“I love it.” And she means it. The thought makes her head spin. She loves camp? Who would have ever thought?

“The kids really seem to like you, too. I think that’s the weirdest part.”

“Definitely.” She laughs before taking a bite of her spaghetti. She’s never been a huge fan of kids, but it’s because she’d never really interacted with them. She always thought she’d hate them, but she likes the ones she’s dealing with. And it helps that she’s not dealing with them alone.

“You’re still here,” Raven says, sitting down next to Wells. “We haven’t scared you off yet.”

“Wells doesn’t get scared off,” Clarke tells her as Bellamy sits next to her and a few other counselors follow along. He snorts and Clarke kicks him in the ankle. The two of them glare at each other for a few seconds until they can’t help but smile.

“As you’ve probably been able to tell,” Octavia chimes in from the other side of her brother, “Clarke and my brother are banging. So, do you have any warnings for him? _He_ gets scared off easily.”

Clarke winces and looks back down at her plate. She’s pretty sure Wells picked up on Bellamy’s not so subtle jealousy this morning, but no one had voiced their relationship yet. Not even through lunch. She doesn’t want to rub it in his face or make him uncomfortable. He told her he was _in love_ with her and now she’s sleeping with someone else without even telling him? She feels like shit.

Of course it was Octavia that brought it up.

Bellamy coughs into his water next to her and Clarke can hear Wells chuckle across the table. It’s enough to make her look at him again. And she’s so happy to see him smiling. “Warnings?” he asks, considering Bellamy carefully. He’s still choking a little and Octavia pats him on the back—a little harder than necessary—until he stops and shoves her arm away.

“Yeah, what does the best friend say to the wormy boyfriend?” Raven asks and Clarke throws a napkin at her face.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she corrects, looking at Wells. She expected Bellamy would have said the same thing, but he’s just moved on to silently eating his spaghetti.

“Same difference,” Monty says, waving his hand. They’re all looking at Wells expectantly, waiting for his warnings. But she’s looking at Bellamy and he’s looking at his food.

“Don’t fuck it up,” Wells says finally. “That’s it.”

“Or what?” Octavia needles. Clarke ignores her, though, and taps her toe against Bellamy’s under the table.

He looks up at her and rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Or Clarke will fuck him up,” they hear Wells say and most everyone laughs,

“It’s true,” she confirms, turning back to her own food.

“I believe it,” Bellamy says.

Clarke focuses on eating so that the conversation can move on and away from her. She doesn’t make eye contact with anyone until Wells clears his throat. “I hear there’s a talent show tonight,” he says when she looks up at him.

“Sure is. You’re going to love it.”

“Probably not,” Raven says and Wells laughs.

“Probably not,” Clarke confirms. “But it’ll only be a couple of hours and then we can leave.”

Wells nods. She’s excited to get some one on one time with him. All day, they’ve been surrounded by campers and the counselors. They watched and helped with rehearsals. Clarke showed him the art room where there was definitely some stray glitter Bellamy failed at hiding from her. Clarke introduced him to her campers and a whole bunch of them followed them around for hours. Lincoln recruited them to help find all the gear he’d need for the morning hike he was leading with some of the families.

All of the families were squished into the mess hall now, sitting with their campers. It was loud in there tonight, with nonstop chatter and laughing. The kids were happy and relaxed. Indra and Kane were a little tenser than normal, standing in the back of the room, fielding questions from some parents. But, for the most part, it was a nice night. The food was good. And the talent show would be quite the spectacle.

Not to mention, Wells is sitting directly across from her. They’re laughing together and surrounded by all of the new friends she’s made a camp. She knows that the two of them need to talk about his feelings and where to go from there once the summer ends and they’re back to living in the same city day in and day out. And they will, when they leave camp and get some time alone.

\--

The talent show is… something else. The whole time, Miller stands at the bottom of the stage, directing each and every act—there are about 25 and he knows every single one of them. He’s like a deranged stage mom and it makes Clarke wildly excited to see how he’s going to be during the play at the end of the summer.

The rest of the counselors are either “backstage”—which is just the performing arts cabin—helping the kids to get ready or calm their nerves, or they’re spread throughout the crowd, talking with parents and kids not participating. Clarke, and Wells by extension, are backstage with Octavia, Murphy, and Lincoln. None of them know what they’re doing, since Miller has maintained full control up to this point, but they just do what the kids ask them to do and no one complains.

By the time the whole thing is over, Clarke’s exhausted. She’s usually exhausted by the end of the day, working in the sun and with a whole bunch of kids, but this is a whole new level. The show ends right around 9, and the families don’t get the hint to head out until counselors start saying “goodnight” with a bit of an edge and a nod toward the lot where their cars are parked. The kids still end up getting to bed a little later than usual and Clarke doesn’t get changed out of her camp clothes until 10.

She finds Wells at the picnic tables with Bellamy and Monty, the three of them sitting in silence. Monty’s looking between the older two, but they’re both just staring down at the table until they notice Clarke. And then they both stand expectantly and Monty fails to hide a laugh with a fake cough.

“I’ll be ready in two minutes,” she tells Wells and he smiles knowingly. “My car’s over in the lot behind the bathrooms. Monty, can you show him?” He rolls his eyes, but gets up. Clarke hands her keys to Wells and smiles up at him. “Two minutes,” she promises.

Once Wells and Monty start walking away, Bellamy walks out from behind the picnic table and Clarke starts toward him. “Have fun tonight,” he says drily and Clarke shoves his shoulder.

“You don’t get to be jealous,” she reminds him. “You’re not my boyfriend. And you especially don’t get to be jealous of my _best friend_.”

“Your best friend who is in love with you,” he says it slowly, like he really needs her to understand. And she does—better than anyone.

“That’s irrelevant. I’m not in love with _him_.”

Bellamy considers that while Clarke watches him. He sighs and tentatively reaches for her and she relents, walking into his open arms until they encircle her waist. “We might need to revisit our arrangement soon,” he whispers, running his nose over her jaw. She clutches his zip-up in both her hands and holds him tightly against her.

“Yeah, we might need to,” she agrees, kissing him lightly. “Camp’s halfway over. One more month and we’ll be in Boston.”

“Together.”

Clarke smiles at that and kisses him harder than before, but she makes it quick because she can hear Monty’s footsteps coming closer again. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promises Bellamy, still in his arms, lips still touching his, just slightly.

He squeezes her one last time before letting go and she turns away without another word, avoiding Monty’s eyes. She knows how he’s looking at her, she doesn’t need to see him laughing at them. She knows how pathetic the two of them look.

She hurries to her car where Wells is already sitting in the passenger seat and gets in. “Sorry about that,” she tells him before backing out of her spot and carefully maneuvering through camp.

“He’s not your boyfriend?” Wells asks once they’re driving toward town.

“Not really, no.”

“You look at him like he’s your boyfriend. And he treats you like you’re his girlfriend.”

“A lot has happened in four weeks,” is all she says and Wells snorts a laugh, making her smile. “I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. I didn’t plan this.”

“Yeah, your plan before you left pretty much just consisted of you being miserable all summer,” Wells remembers and she nods. “This is probably a better alternative.”

“It hasn’t been as great as it seems, you know. It’s not fixing everything.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to. But you are happier. And you’ve made some really cool friends and you found someone who makes you smile with just a look.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought you would,” Clarke admits quietly, taking the last turn toward the bar. Might as well get it over with now so they can have some fun once they get there.

“You’re my best friend, Clarke. I can’t make you happy the way this place has been able to, so I’m more than willing to accept that,” he says and she nods. “You’re my best friend,” he says again and she glances over at him. “Before anything else—before _everything_ —that’s the most important thing in the world. I’m okay and you’re happy.”

“Are you, though?”

“I was never _un_ happy,” he laughs. “I promise. I’m good. And I’m just glad you’re getting there, too.”

“Yeah,” she hums. “Me too.”

\--

After two full days of families and packed schedules, Clarke is relieved to wake up on Monday with a pretty light day ahead of her. The campers have been rejuvenated since their families came and went. So has Clarke, since her brief time with Wells. Monday is a good day, and breakfast only just ended.

In her art room, she’s setting up for an easy watercolor lesson. Raven is sitting in the back of the room, waiting for the kids to come so she can join them. “So, tonight?” she asks Clarke and they look at each other, Clarke smiling goofily.

“Tonight,” she repeats, laying out pieces of thick paper in front of each seat. The kids should be arriving any minute. “I booked a room at that hotel the parents stayed at. If we’re out of there by 6 tomorrow morning, we’ll be back here with plenty of time for breakfast.”

“Romantic,” Raven says in her mocking, sing-song voice. But, to Clarke, it _is_ romantic. A night away from camp and the prying eyes of their friends. A night away in a king size bed, with a single shower just feet away. She can’t wait. Honestly, she’d probably be just as excited if Bellamy wasn’t going to be with her.

“It’ll be fun.”

“All kinds of fun, I hope. I want details tomorrow.”

“You always want details.” They both laugh as the door opens and fifteen kids come filing in.

It’s an easy class, just as Clarke had planned. The kids paint and make a mess. So does Raven. When class is over and their pictures are left behind to dry, Clarke stays behind to clean up, but Raven has to head out for her own class a few cabins down.

“Hey.”

Clarke looks up as the door slaps shut behind Bellamy and smiles. “Hey.”

“Are you going to tell me what the plan is for tonight?” He’s asked her three times since they met for breakfast, but she just shakes her head. She doesn’t even think it’s that big of a deal—or a huge surprise—but she enjoys making him antsy. “Fine. Do you have anything going on right now?”

“No, I’m free for a couple of hours,” she tells him, closing the art cabinet and locking it up. “Why?”

“I need some help going through the comment cards that the families left behind. Kane wants a full record of them by tonight,” he explains. “Not as sexy as you were expecting, huh?”

“Not even a little bit,” Clarke laughs, but takes his hand. “Where to?”

“Front office.” He tugs her out of the cabin and drops her hand as a couple of kids run by on their way to their next scheduled activity.

Once they pass and run into cabins, Clarke reaches for his hand again and he squeezes back. “You know, Wells really liked you guys.”

“Even me?” He laughs, but Clarke elbows him gently in the ribs. “Come on, Clarke. Forget the fact that he has feelings for you. I’m still the guy casually sleeping with his best friend. He’s wary of me, at best.”

“That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like you,” she insists and Bellamy snorts, pulling her the last bit through the woods until they’re walking aside the front office. “He liked you! Does he like that you’re sleeping with me? That, I don’t know. But he does like you as a person.”

She doesn’t miss the fact that he said they were casually sleeping together. It’s only fair. They talked about revisiting their arrangement soon, but they haven’t actually done it. So, they are still _just_ casually sleeping together. And holding hands and texting late into the night when they’re on separate shifts. He got jealous of Wells. And sometimes Clarke still feels a little jealous when she sees him laughing with Gina. It feels like more than just casually sleeping together. But… they haven’t made that change yet.

She’s still not sure if they should. She _wants_ to and it’s not like she’s not over Lexa, at this point. There’s nothing really working against them. She’s in a good place now—way better than a month ago—and he definitely has something to do with that. Reality will hit her once she goes back to Boston and, even more, when she goes back to her mother’s house. But, she’s sure she can handle it now.

There are times, though, when she feels him getting distant. Like _he_ remembers that they’re nothing more than just casual. Which… is fair. He set the rules. He made the first move. If he doesn’t want to change anything, she can’t force him to. And she doesn’t _need_ anything to change. She likes hanging out with him, she likes making him laugh, she likes sleeping with him. She can live in a casual bubble, if that’s what he wants from her. It’s enough.

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://bellamyfrecklefaceblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
